Etched Joys, Wretched Joys
“Rugby is full of dreary ghosts of dead hopes and remembered joys” ~ Rupert Brooke
Lascelles was more than just another love
For Rupert. Charles was Rupert’s first love, more
Like God’s own “Fiat lux” while high above
The chaos of the loveless cosmos. Sore
Were all his later loves except the one
With Taatamata, maybe. Love for Charles was prime,
As in a template Christ spoke out. A nun
Could cuddle with it happily. The grime
Of other passions did not fit in with
That paradigm of innocence untouched.
Lascelles lined up in Rupert’s holy myth
As in a virgin petal left unsmutched.
Sore also this one came to be, more pain
Like unrequited passion lacking stain.
~ Phillip Whidden