Wednesday Poetry: From "Chamber Music," by James Joyce

For all of his talent and experimentation as a prose writer, James Joyce was--at best--conventional as a poet. So far I've been showing off poems that I enjoy, but for a change of pace, I'll give you a piece that I think is a bit hackneyed and--unfortunately--shows what most people [quite negatively] expect from poetry.

So my apologies to James Joyce.

From "Chamber Music"

Strings in the earth and air

Make music sweet;

Strings by the river where

The willows meet.

There's music along the river

For Love wanders there,

Pale flowers on his mantle,

Dark leaves on his hair.

All softly playing,

With head to the music bent,

And fingers straying

Upon an instrument.