#Australians #Lesbian #Women
Sometimes the skirts I push throu… Spread circlewise, strong petalled… And look for the rapt moment of a… Like Buddha’s robe. And I, caught up out of the workr…
There’s a big park just close to w… Trees in a row And shaggy grass whereon the dead… And in the middle round a great la… The fair yachts sail
What were the good of stars if non… But mariners, astronomers and such… The sun and moon and stars were ma… I know that much.
Through the swift night I go to my love. Tram bells are joy bells, Bidding us move On a golden path
She has all Ireland in her blood, All Ireland’s need of sword and t… With memories dim before the flood… And conflicts of a thousand years. No son of Italy should love
I have golden shoes To make me fleet. They are like the wind Underneath my feet. When my lover’s kiss
When my lover put the sea between… And went wandering in Italy My poor silly heart miscalled his… ‘Leaving me’. Towns of Spain and Italy he staye…
I hated them when I was four year… The bright pink berries on the pep… And now they seem quite beautiful… My tower of dreams when I was fou… Was such a tree. Its branches hid…
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’d love to have you on a rainy da… Tucked in a chair, my head against… To sit and dream with. Sometime y… My home-sharer whom rain can’t kee…
‘I used to have dozens of handkerc… Of finest lawn. I used to have silk shirts and fin… He’s like a faun This darling out-at-elbows Irish…
Sometimes I wish that I were Hel… And wise as Pallas, That I might have most royal gift… In love’s sweet chalice. Then I reflect my dear love is no…
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…
I’ve had no man To guard and shelter me, Guide and instruct me From mine infancy. No lord of earth
At ten o’clock the great gong soun… Prelude to splendour. I push back… And all the people leave their boo… Still acquiescent, down the marble… Into the dark where we can’t read.…