After The Funeral (in Memory Of Ann Jones) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDAEFAFAGHIAJKLKEK MFAANAFNFOAPFQHNRSTS| After the funeral mule praises brays | A |
| Windshake of sailshaped ears muffle toed tap | B |
| Tap happily of one peg in the thick | C |
| Grave's foot blinds down the lids the teeth in black | D |
| The spittled eyes the salt ponds in the sleeves | A |
| Morning smack of the spade that wakes up sleep | E |
| Shakes a desolate boy who slits his throat | F |
| In the dark of the coffin and sheds dry leaves | A |
| That breaks one bone to light with a judgment clout' | F |
| After the feast of tear stuffed time and thistles | A |
| In a room with a stuffed fox and a stale fern | G |
| I stand for this memorial's sake alone | H |
| In the snivelling hours with dead humped Ann | I |
| Whose hodded fountain heart once fell in puddles | A |
| Round the parched worlds of Wales and drowned each sun | J |
| Though this for her is a monstrous image blindly | K |
| Magnified out of praise her death was a still drop | L |
| She would not have me sinking in the holy | K |
| Flood of her heart's fame she would lie dumb and deep | E |
| And need no druid of her broken body | K |
| But I Ann's bard on a raised hearth call all | M |
| The seas to service that her wood tongud virtue | F |
| Babble like a bellbuoy over the hymning heads | A |
| Bow down the walls of the ferned and foxy woods | A |
| That her love sing and swing through a brown chapel | N |
| Blees her bent spirit with four crossing birds | A |
| Her flesh was meek as milk but this skyward statue | F |
| With the wild breast and blessed and giant skull | N |
| Is carved from her in a room with a wet window | F |
| In a fiercely mourning house in a crooked year | O |
| I know her scrubbed and sour humble hands | A |
| Lie with religion in their cramp her threadbare | P |
| Whisper in a damp word her wits drilled hollow | F |
| Her fist of a face died clenched on a round pain | Q |
| And sculptured Ann is seventy years of stone | H |
| These cloud sopped marble hands this monumental | N |
| Argument of the hewn voice gesture and psalm | R |
| Storm me forever over her grave until | S |
| The stuffed lung of the fox twitch and cry Love | T |
| And the strutting fern lay seeds on the black sill | S |
Dylan Thomas
(2)
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