A poem by Doris Peel
Once people spoke
quite commonly, we are told,
not only - as now -
of a Pride of Lions
but also
of an Ostentation of Peacocks
a Murmuration of Starlings
a Charm of Finches
And loveliest of all
(to match what they are)
an Exaltation of Larks
Only for men --
men who so marvelously
have found a name
for all they behold
here on earth
there has been as yet
no consummate word
no elated consensus
singing itself
Presumably we are waiting
Still waiting to hear
Sweet syllabled
essence-of-us
come clear.
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