Silver
Thursday, September 3rd, 2009Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees; One by one the casements catch ...
Archive for the ‘Literature’ Category
Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees; One by one the casements catch ...
MAGPIES IN PICARDY
Wednesday, August 19th, 2009The magpies in Picardy Are more than I can tell. They flicker down the dusty roads And cast a magic spell On the men ...
Anthem for Doomed Youth
Wednesday, August 5th, 2009What passing-bells for those who die as cattle? --Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries ...
Afternoons
Wednesday, July 1st, 2009Summer is fading: The leaves fall in ones and twos From trees bordering The new recreation ground. In the hollows of afternoons Young mothers ...
Diary: ‘Is my team ploughing
Tuesday, May 19th, 2009'Is my team ploughing, That I was used to drive And hear the harness jingle When I was man alive?' Ay, the horses trample, The harness jingles now; ...
They flee from me …
Friday, May 1st, 2009They flee from me, that sometime did me seek, With naked foot stalking within my chamber: Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek, ...
Executive
Friday, March 20th, 2009I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner; I have a Slimline brief-case and I use the firm's Cortina. In every roadside hostelry from here to Burgess Hill The maîtres d'hôtel ...
The Last Word
Monday, February 9th, 2009The Last Word CREEP into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said! Vain thy onset! all stands fast. Thou thyself must break at last. ...
Snow in the Suburbs
Thursday, January 8th, 2009Snow in the Suburbs Every branch big with it, Bent every twig with it; Every fork like a white web-foot; Every street and pavement mute: ...
From “The Dead” by James Joyce
Tuesday, December 23rd, 2008Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, ...
