The table lamp

A clipped lamp poured its light on light
Twice it went to sleep and on waking up
Its sleep-weary eyes blinked in disbelief.

A poem before dawn from knots of words
On what rhymes with a green table light!
Nothing rhymes with a table lamp right.

Poetry of things comes from inner light.
Its music is in the very nature of things,
The way it trains its  light on trite things.

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