You are viewing the category: Clouds of Glory & Other Poems
Exploration and Discovery
Exploration and Discovery Amalgamated Cook and Darwin, now I have the opportunity to search The world, (home and abroad, both near and far), For fossilised remains and recent strains Still extant, (wheresoever they may be Discovered), of Rima […]
Cool Avenues
Cool Avenues Along cool avenues in thought I walked Beneath the high-branched, leafy-shading trees More venerable than Methuselah. Remembrance came and went like dappled pools Of light and shade across the surfaces […]
Expedition
Expedition Once, we were seven ships. Three were left beached In England. A fourth, newly to Colours Called, now leaves to start patrols in Britain’s Name. And soon the mother-ship, (frail pinnace, Too small safely to sail […]
Broom
Broom Small pale-leaved bush, besprent With dark, sulphureous flowers Tinged faintly red; It looks as though someone Has pricked your gorsy blooms And made them bleed Plantagenetical!.
Trust
Trust It seems to me that, when I place my trust In humankind, something always goes wrong!. Though with the best intentions and most strong Affections, promises are turned to dust. No, I’m not cynical of friends!. It’s just […]
Voyeurs?
Voyeurs? Are poets spies upon æsthetica?. They watch events around them through keen eyes, (From the overall generality To the minutest of particulars), Whilst noting with descriptive acumen Their stimulation of, (or by), the most […]
Chivalrous?
Chivalrous? I love. That is enough For all my needs; Though what my lover wants […]
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 […]
Incantation
Incantation If I were Mercury, on healing wing, To touch with white caduceus your hurt; If I were famed Asklepios, to bring Skill-blended draughts to ease your sickened heart; If I were […]
Discretion
Discretion It’s strange how into silence we may grow During the passage of our middle years; How mistrust and suspicion come between The carefree confidences of proud youth And knowing cynicism of ripe years. Not even those we love above […]