Looking for an image of an eye on the internet, I found they were either medical or female. Is no-one other than optometrists interested in men’s eyes?

Anyway, this poem was sparked by remembering an old photo of me when I was in my early 20s. It’s a poem about appearances – then and now. I’d never claim to be a sage!


When I was young, my eyes were wide like Blake’s,

Pools for some fabulous sea-snake,

But wind and sun and dust and age

Have narrowed them; suspicious sage,

I look out through these guarded slits

With ready, oiled, assembled wits.

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  1. Delicious! Loved it..you express so exactly that sad progression from innocence and hope to maturity… and a million other things !
    Your last post on foxes got me re-reading John Masefield’s rather heart-breaking long poem about a fox-hunt – Reynard the Fox

    • Thanks!

      I remember that poem from the last year at Primary School – the Headmaster reading it. He had lost half a finger in the war and there was an odd fascination for a child in the stump.

  2. You’ve captured time’s progress with such brevity….loved this poem!

    • Thanks, Neel. The old photo stuck in my mind because it surprised me at the time. Someone took an almost candid photo of me sitting at a table and my eyes looked huge and dark, just like in that famous drawing of Blake. I thought: “Do I look like that?”

  3. LadyBlueRose's Thoughts Into Words

     /  November 10, 2013

    as the soul looks through
    and back at you
    in the mirror of reflections
    as we give an overall inspection

    I think thats why I don’t like to have my picture taken, I always wonder
    if I really look like that to others and if how I see them is how they really look to others….
    kind of like does an apple taste the same to you as it would to me?
    I was out walking this morning, and I watched leaves dance on silken threads, though no wind..so Nature’s music must have been what they heard….( a blogger wrote a wonderful poem on grass dancing which I thought of as i watched) but for some reason i wondered if you stopped and watched grass dance, leaves dance in no wind, and I thought I bet you do….
    a Sage…an observer of movement in energies…

    okay rambled enough ..I really like this poem…you should find the photograph and put it,
    Take Care Simon….You Matter…

    • I never owned the photo.

      I don’t stop and stare enough, but perhaps by the sea-shore more than elsewhere.

      Take care too!


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