THE HEAVENLY CITYSpring is here and the sun streams through my window and walking out on the street, all seems heavenly, and it brings to mind a poem by the wonderful Stevie Smith. Her poems are also weirdly Blake-like in their childish rhymes, but full of a kind of tension of the absent, where in talking about what is, she talks about what isn’t. A wonderful poet! Love Susie. x

The Heavenly City

I sigh for the heavenly country,

Where the heavenly people pass,

And the sea is as quiet as a mirror

Of beautiful beautiful glass.

I walk in the heavenly field,

With lilies and poppies bright,

I am dressed in a heavenly coat

Of polished white.

When I walk in the heavenly parkland

My feet on the pasture are bare,

Tall waves the grass, but no harmful

Creature is there.

At night I fly over the housetops,

And stand on the bright moony beams;

Gold are all heaven’s rivers,

And silver her streams.

By Stevie Smith