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Poem of the Day > 180. Flying Crooked - Robert Graves

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message 1: by Lee (new)

Lee Flying Crooked

The butterfly, a cabbage-white,
(His honest idiocy of flight)
Will never now, it is too late,
Master the art of flying straight,
Yet has -- who knows so well as I? --
A just sense of how not to fly:
He lurches here and here by guess
And God and hope and hopelessness.
Even the aerobatic swift
Has not his flying-crooked gift.

Robert Graves.

message 2: by Lee (new)

Lee This is just a perfect little poem - totally charming.

message 3: by Angela (new)

Angela | 738 comments I just read that out to my husband. Almost childlike in its sweetness but with a tinge of despair.


message 4: by Hilary (new)

Hilary | 2082 comments What a lovely little poem.

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