The Garden of Love - Blake

I think sometimes you read a poem and it just sticks with you, something about it resonates. I haven’t done a favourite poem post for a while, so here’s The Garden of Love by William Blake (1757-1827). Which I think is on my mind more since I read Hemovore by Jordan Castillo Price.

The Garden of Love

I went to the garden of love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not writ over the door;
So I turned to the garden of love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be -
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.