Who put that crease in your soul,
Davies, ready this fine morning
For the staid chapel, where the Book's frown
Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray
And scheme at once, your eyes turning
Skyward, while your swift mind weighs
Your heifer's chances in the next town's
Fair on Thursday? Are your heart's coals
Kindled for God, or is the burning
Of your lean cheeks because you sit
Too near that girl's smouldering gaze?
Tell me, Davies, for the faint breeze
From heaven freshens and I roll in it,
Who taught you your deft poise?
Back to R. S. Thomas
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Comments1Reading this poem took me back to my younger days. Such a thoughtful piece, with a curious blend of the sacred and the profane. Definitely makes you think about what drives our actions - divine devotion or earthly desires. Still resonates with me today. 🙏🐄🔥📖