#AustralianWriters
My lovely pixie, my good companion… You do not love me, bed-mate of mi… Save as a child loves, Careless of loving, Rather preferring raspberry wine.
Today I saw A market cart going along the road… High-piled and creaking with a son… Of cabbages. The driver sat
I in the library, Looking for books to read, Pulled one out twice to see If it fulfilled my need. Butler had written this
Pat wasn’t Pat last night at all. He was the rain, The Spring, Young Dionysus, white and warm, Lilac and everything.
Into old rhyme The new words come but shyly. Here’s a brave man Who sings of commerce dryly. Swift-gliding cars
This evening I’m alone. I wish there’d be Someone to come along And talk to me. Yet out of all my friends
You who are dead, Do you know They’ve dug up half the irises That used to grow Here in the quadrangle a year ago?
Flowers have uncountable ways of p… Not solid, but moonlight or sunlig… Primroses strive for the colour of… Dew-besprent. Freesias are flames wherein light…
Do you remember still the little s… I mumbled on the hill at Aura, ho… I told you it was made for Katie’… When I was fresh from school and… With all the strength of girlhood?…
I have a sister whom God gave to… He formed her out of trouble and t… Like Aphrodite, she came to me fu… Oh, I am blest forever with a sis…
My mission in the world Is to prolong Rapture by turning it Into a song. A song of liberty
All through the day at my machine There still keeps going A strange little tune through hear… As I sit sewing: ‘There is a child in Hungary,
I lie in the dark Grass beneath and you above me, Curved like the sky, Insistent that you love me. But the high stars
They used to say Our mother brought us up like hot-… From day to day Such wondrous cares were ours Her love inspired.
The love I look for Could not come from you. My mind is set to fall At Peterloo. But you’ld protect me,