What is this life

It seems that  I’ve always known this poem, so I imagine that it was one of the many that my mother would declaim, often loudly, as she either did the housework, or alternatively, if she decided her children needed a bit of entertainment/ embarrassment/ education  (delete as appropriate).  Other  poems  Mum used included “The boy stood on the burning Deck”  and “Gunga Din”. However, this is the one that has become part of my personal philosophy of life….

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

             WH Davies

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