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  Friday, May 15, 2009 10:58PM / Standard Entry / Members only
  

   

  I boarded the big ship bound for the West,

  The clean white liner.

  In the noon-day heat

  Coolies thronged the sun-drenched pier.

  Yet I saw only

  The village I had left,

   

  

   

  And a boat at rest

  On the river’s shallow water

  In the shade of the flowering

  Long red-fingered poinsettia.

  I saw not the big waves

  But the ripple of running

  Water in the reeds.

   

  We came to ...., lost in November mist:

  In an ash-grey dawn at Tilbury dock

  I longed for the warmth of a kiss

  Of sunlight.

   

  In the busy streets

  Were cavalcades of people

  Hurrying in a heat of hope.

  But I was only

   

  The wheat-field, the tea-slope…

   

  

   

   

  A cow at rest.

  And longed for the soft, shoeless tread

  Of a village boy…