In fairy tales we often read A speck of truth as a mustard seed, A leap of faith, a bitter pill to some Who swallow whole without question Tales of fancy scribed by men whose Dreams compel the scratch of pen, The leaving of some trace of thought That, perhaps, all is not for nought.

It’s such a deep poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Luisa. Housman is one of my favorite poets, but I never read his poem until you posted.
LikeLiked by 1 person
ππΌππΌπ
LikeLike
Owing to Housman’s controversial position in his time, this poem was published only after his death.
LikeLiked by 1 person
βοΈππ°π₯ Happy Easter!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Happy Easter, Cindy!
LikeLike
stunning writing and so true, too π
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person