Another of the short poems we read at my mother’s funeral was this. Again it captures my mother’s quiet delight in the natural world.

Leisure
By WH Davies

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 (1871-1940) spent a significant part of his life as a tramp in both the UK and USA, but became one of the most popular poets of his time.