Delay

Elizabeth Jennings

 The radiance of the star that leans on me
 Was shining years ago. The light that now
 Glitters up there my eyes may never see,
 And so the time lag teases me with how

 Love that loves now may not reach me until
 Its first desire is spent. The star's impulse
 Must wait for eyes to claim it beautiful
 And love arrived may find us somewhere else.

Commentary

Nothing much to add to the simplicity of this poem except to say, sadly, that I have found it to be true.

Its from the Poems On The Underground anthology, which is a really nice one. The Poems On The Underground scheme aims to put short poems in public places. It has worked brilliantly in London, and got very positive responses. Maybe one day they’ll get around to doing something like this in the Bombay suburban trains…

I don’t have any biographical details on Elizabeth Jennings, except that she was born in 1926 and has lived most of her life in Oxford. Writes nice literate balanced poetry.

[Check out http://www.rcc.ait.ac.th/staff/suman/ElizabethJennings.html for a brief biography and assessment - m.]


The Wondering Minstrels, poem #249 · 30 October 1999

Guest poem submitted by Vikram Doctor

Fair use

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From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.

Eirwen Smith · 6 February 2000

My son is studying Elizabeth Jennings@ poetry for A Level English. There does not seem to be very much written about her or her work. Any suggestions as to where we can locate any info>

Thanks

softball007 · 4 March 2001

What is the dramatic situation of Elizabeth Jenning’s peom Delay? Who is speaking? To Whom? What is the tone? How do you know?

Roley Walton · 31 January 2003

I heard a poem –“Friendship” by Elizabeth Jennings–on Radio 4—I would love a copy of the words.

Andrew Pidd · 3 March 2003

Roley

I don’t know how long ago you posted your request for the words to Friendship by Elizabeth Jennings, but in the unlikely event that you don’t have them already, here they are …..

Friendship
Such love I cannot analyse;
It does not rest in lips or eyes,
Neither in kisses nor caress.
Partly, I know, it’s gentleness

And understanding in one word
Or in brief letters. It’s preserved
By trust and by respect and awe.
These are the words I’m feeling for.

Two people, yes, two lasting friends.
The giving comes, the taking ends.
There is no measure for such things.
For this all Nature slows and sings.

Cheers

Andy