#AustralianWriters
To Plato’s dictum Assent she lends. All things in common We hold, as friends. I share her riches.
You, whom the grave cannot bind, Shall a song hold you? Still you escape from the mesh Spun to enfold you. Your woven texture of flesh
I do hate the folk I love– They hurt so. Their least word and act may be Source of woe. ‘Won’t you come to tea with me?’
When Gertie came in To work today She was much less weary And far more gay. We asked her the reason
Today, in class, I read aloud to forty little boys The legend of King Croesus’ boast… They were so young, Restless, and eager, I believed t…
Sometimes I think the happiest of… Is the blest moment of release fro… The world once more is all one’s o… Upon one’s own and not another’s p… And each poor heart imprisoned by…
Why does she put me to many indign… Shifts to prevent myself thinking… My golden Katie, who loveth not k… I wear my new dresses and put on s… All to prevent myself thinking upo…
When I go into town at half past… Great crowds of people stream acro… Hurrying, although it’s only half… They are the invisible people of t… When you go in to town about eleve…
My friend declares Being woman and virgin she Takes small account of periodicity And she is right. Her days are calmly spent
He looks in my heart and the image… Is himself, himself, than himself… And he thinks of my heart as a mir… To reflect the image I hold most… But my heart is much more like a s…
The lilies in the garden walk Are out today. The nuns all came to look at them, To look and say They wouldn’t last to deck the cri…
The foot of my machine Sails up and down Upon the blue of this fine lady’s… Sail quickly, little boat, With gifts for me,
You may have other loves, Red mouths to kiss. Why should you lose That loveliness for this? No loveliness of mine
Sometimes I watch you, mark your… Your grave brow over-weighted with… Your mouth’s straight line—details… That all aloofness in your aspect… And yet when in the dark down from…
I think each year should bring Little fresh songs Like flowers in spring. That they might deck the hours For a brief while