The Twain, Poems of Earth and Ether

 New edition coming November, 2016...

 

New Eve Publishing (if clicking this link, please scroll down page for overview and comments)

Now in Ebook Download Format

 

First Day

 

New brooms and turning tides
herald the Arian brides,
Ram eschews paternity,
Ewe gloats in maternity,
Meadows are flocked with cumulus,
Viridescence mocks winter's tumulus,
Lambs frisk on boughs torn down by gales,
Delight inspires their catkin tails,
Arcadian memory revives
and the migrating swallow dives
and cleaves the newly-sunbathed air,
steam-shimmering sodden moss up there
in eaves where martins make their home
from twigs and neatly-rendered loam,
In swelling lakes, the char fish rise,
teased by the angler's cunning flies,
And bullion ripples spread to shore
where nutshell boats are left to moor,
The cormorant is poised for kill,
waiting to pincer open gill,
The fern unfurls primeval fronds,
while frogspawn hides in lily-ponds,
In silent reeds swan cygnets hatch,
March hares essay a boxing match
in thickets tangled with trefoil
and violets, and pennyroyal
thrusts up its minty lances proud
on commons where fresh nettles crowd
burdock and recoined dandelion,
budding loosestrife and campion,
The gorse's tines begin to gild
and daisies star the browsing field,
By stealth, the spectral bluebells glow
in woods where creeps the dew-eyed doe,
Larks suspend themselves in song
above their heather-feathered young,
And collar doves perch on the gate
while all creation seeks its mate,
Nature is bent on new beginning
and death has not a chance of winning...


For us the Ides of March give way
to shamrock and St Patrick's Day,
To Riverdance and red saltire
and legends told by peaty fire,
And rippling harps and Celtic airs
stir ancient pulse and haunt the ears
And lo! The equinox is past
and spring is ushered in at last!

 
Our Lady contemplates her dearth
When Gabriel descends to earth
and tells of Everlasting Birth.

 
A sword will pierce her heart, she knows,
Within her womb an infant grows
Who'll light the way and conquer foes

 
The Lily and the Cross are bound,
The Thorn springs blossom on the Crowned
And Time turns round without a sound

 
And as for me, an April child,
the cruellest month is never mild,
The birthday joy and sorrow bind
to shadow perfect peace of mind,
The day my life was to begin,
I parted from my stillborn twin.

 

San Francisco's Reply

To Katie Burke who wrote a Valentine letter to her native city



My heart's forever
yours, Miss Burke, let me count the
ways you bridge that fault,

deep-riv'n below your
feet, with golden eulogy,
Narcissus himself

had no greater joy
in his reflection than mine
in your limpid eye

you exculpate my
treachery with a soulful
blink denied frail man

must I then believe
you'll not yield to the human
dance and play me false?

 

 

For a further selection of poems, please click 'Reflections' in the top left menu box.

Two further poetry collections are in preparation