Two Poems
Clive Wilmer, 5 June 1986
“... Fixed in the mind, they burn For things to be in peace. Invocation Unanswering voice, Sustainer, Lady or Lord: I have no choice But to attend Your silent word. I think again Of the first poet Of our tongue: Abandoning The sweet, profane Intoxication Of plucked string And exploit sung. At your command He sang creation. He had withdrawn To where His silence ... ”