You are viewing the category: Art

Irish Guards

   Irish Guards     (Coolmela)        In countless ranks about my house — In uniforms of shadowed black Or sunlit green, or arid tones Of brittle brown — my tall guards stand.      No eye can take in at one view All of their Companies formed up In ordered squares along […]

Phœnix

                                Phœnix        Five hundred disappointments turn to ash; Five hundred sadnesses their embers add; And yet five hundred more bleak problems drop Their charred remains upon the reeking pyre Of life’s ambitions and frustrated dreams.      The […]

Into the Unknown

                 Into the Unknown        Westwards, on winds of hope, I sail at last Towards my bright tomorrow’s hidden lands; As once Columbus and Magellan went To find their destinies in history.      Columbus for the Indies set his course But found, instead, Southern America; […]

Delectation

                                         Delectation (on The Charm of Poetry, a book by J.D. Bevington)   This book is my delight, my joy!.      I hope that when Old Age shall come           And […]

Father and Son

                 Father and Son                       (for Colin)        So, here I am – your father, son — Progenitor and heir, it’s true – My young soul in a body aged By time’s experiential force; A stranger in […]

John Keats

                            John Keats           (On re-reading Keats’s To Autumn)       [Alternative version of: On Re-reading Keats]        Reading your works again, (my friend long dead), A pile of plangent words heaps in my head Till I’m replete with feelings strange and strong, My senses harvested by scything song.      John Keats!. Autumn’s expressive […]

On Re-Reading Keats

                      On Re-Reading Keats                                     Re-reading you, (my friend, though long since dead), I am suffused with feelings strange and strong; A flood – a whirl of words – pours through my head, My captured heart bursts into happy song!. […]

Swallows

                            Swallows        ‘gathering swallows’… (John Keats: To Autumn)        Could I now fly with them across wide seas – To lands where Winter’s dearths bring no alarms In climates lush with tropic luxuries; Or near Egyptian Sphinx inspire sweet balms Borne on warm zephyrs from rich isles of spice – I’ld consecrate […]

Language and Art

                 Language and Art              (From: A Theory for Art)        If language is employed without due care Or understanding of its latencies, It easily misleads the sense of those Who are unwary of its subtleties – Accreted over centuries – that cause Inaccurate interpretations or Complete […]

Harvest Time

                                        Harvest Time   “O for ten years, that I may overwhelm  Myself in poesy; so may I do the deed  That my own self has to itself decreed”.                 […]

« Previous PageNext Page »