What I fear from you
Elegant ladies who move
With stately steps and
Heads held high,eyes clear
Around and about your ordered
Drawing room world
Is not these delicate facts in themselves
( The tune you are moving to
Finished long ago).
Primp as you will your
Concept of yourselves
(Stand in a pose by the mantel,
Shoulders just so,
Toy with a wine glass,
A chivalrous opponent,words )
- But of your charity
Regard my feelings:
Promise me one thing only- that the next
Slim volume you take up with a rapturous cry
Shall never be mine
- I am too young to die...
I don't know anything about Bruce Dawe other than him being an influential Oz poet (Wiki!) but I like this very much and wonder what it is that you are saying?
ReplyDeleteI thought I would showcase some Australian poets obscure to the world and to here from time to time.This is a country that places no value on poetry at all as described by Bruce
ReplyDeleteDawe in another poem
To Be a Poet In Australia
is to live in Echo Valley
and be hard of hearing
is to inhabit a hall of mirrors
and be short sighted
is to make a long trip home
and find a TO LET sign on the front lawn
is to be listening throught the window
peering into the telephone receiver
talking to a sharp page with hands
that left school just one lesson too early
is to be remembering a sparrow
in Bird Life Park
a toad- fish
at Sea- World
is to be elsewhere or other
in ten thousand conversations
returning with gripped sticks in one's jaws
a hopeful look
and a tail of wagging excuses
Morning (afternoon) Rall! Thanks for that. This is clever and amusing if a sad state of affairs.
ReplyDelete