Solar

Is today's poem by Philip Larkin. 

Suspended lion face
Spilling at the centre
Of an unfurnished sky
How still you stand,
And how unaided
Single stalkless flower
You pour unrecompensed.

The eye sees you
Simplified by distance
Into an origin,
Your petalled head of flames
Continuously exploding.
Heat is the echo of your
Gold.

Coined there among
Lonely horizontals
You exist openly.
Our needs hourly
Climb and return like angels.
Unclosing like a hand,
You give for ever.

No sign of the sun today, we had almost unrelenting rain. I went and sat in a hide at Fishers Green and was very surprised to see and shoot a large terrapin. Probably a discarded former Mutant Ninja Turtle. No point in the cormorant in extras spreading its wings to dry.

On the way home I took a pic of the sign at The Sun Inn. I'm really not into faffing with images, don't know what came over me. :) I erased the support and turned the sun itself into a cross between a "suspended lion face" and a "single stalkless flower." (There's a pic in the paper today of stalkless flowers stuck into the cannons outside The Imperial War Museum.)

Evidently PL wrote the poem as a parody of Christian devotional poetry.