Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/187

 ��PATTERNS

I WALK down the garden paths,

And all the daffodils

Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.

I walk down the patterned garden paths

In my stiff, brocaded gown.

With my powdered hair and jewelled fan,

I too am a rare

Pattern. As I wander down

The garden paths.

My dress is richly figured, And the train

]\Iakes a pink and silver stain On the gravel, and the thrift Of the borders.

Just a plate of current fashion, Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes. Not a softness anywhere about me. Only whale-bone and brocade. And I sink on a seat in the shade Of a lime tree. For my passion Wars against the stiff brocade. The daffodils and squills u

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