Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
The Bull
In the olive darkness of the sally-treessilently moved the air from night to day.The summer-grass was thick with honey daisieswhere he, a curled god..
© Judith Wright
Train Journey
Glassed with cold sleep and dazzled by the moon,out of the confused hammering dark of the trainI looked and saw under the moon's cold sheetyour..
© Judith Wright
Egrets
Once as I travelled through a quiet evening,I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.Beyond, the slender paperbarks stood crowding;each on its own..
© Judith Wright
Metho Drinker
Under the death of winter's leaves he lieswho cried to Nothing and the terrible nightto be his home and bread. 'O take from methe weight and..
© Judith Wright
Sonnet For Christmas
I saw our golden years on a black gale,our time of love spilt in the furious dust.'O we are winter-caught, and we must fail,'said the dark dream..
© Judith Wright
The Killer
The day was clear as fire,the birds sang frail as glass,when thirsty I came to the creekand fell by its side in the grass.My breast on the bright..
© Judith Wright
The Company Of Lovers
We meet and part now over all the world;we, the lost company,take hands together in the night, forgetthe night in our brief happiness, silently.We..
© Judith Wright
Bora Ring
The song is gone; the danceis secret with the dancers in the earth,the ritual useless, and the tribal storylost in an alien tale.Only the grass..
© Judith Wright
South Of My Days
South of my days' circle, part of my blood's country,rises that tableland, high delicate outlineof bony slopes wincing under the winter,low trees..
© Judith Wright
Late Spring
The moon drained white by daylifts from the hillwhere the old pear-tree fallen in stormsprings up in blossom still.Women believe in the moon:this..
© Judith Wright
The Surfer
He thrust his joy against the weight of the sea;climbed through, slid under those long banks offoam--(hawthorn hedges in spring, thorns in the face..
© Judith Wright
Failure Of Communion
What is the space between,enclosing us in oneunited person, yetdividing each alone.Frail bridges cross from eyeto eye, from flesh to flesh,from word..
© Judith Wright
Magpies
Along the road the magpies walkwith hands in pockets, left and right.They tilt their heads, and stroll and talk.In their well-fitted black and..
© Judith Wright
Woman To Man
The eyeless labourer in the night,the selfless, shapeless seed I hold,builds for its resurrection day---silent and swift and deep from sightforesees..
© Judith Wright
Legend
The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifleand a black dog running behind.Cobwebs snatched at his feet,rivers hindered him,thorn branches caught at..
© Judith Wright
Five Senses
Now my five sensesgather into a meaningall acts, all presences;and as a lily gathersthe elements together,in me this dark and shining,that stillness..
© Judith Wright
The Old Prison
The rows of cells are unroofed,a flute for the wind's mouth,who comes with a breath of icefrom the blue caves of the south.O dark and fierce day:the..
© Judith Wright
Request To A Year
If the year is meditating a suitable gift,I should like it to be the attitudeof my great- great- grandmother,legendary devotee of the arts,who having..
© Judith Wright
Estuary
To Rex HobcroftWind crosshatches shallow water.Paddocks rest in the sea's arm.Swamphens race through spiky grass.A wire fence leans, a crazy..
© Gwen Harwood
Critic's Nightwatch
Once more he tried, before he slept,to rule his ranks of words. They brokefrom his planned choir, lolled, slouched and kepttheir tone, their pitch..
© Gwen Harwood
'Thought Is Surrounded By A Halo'
Show me the order of the world,the hard-edge light of this-is-soprior to all experienceand common to both world and thought,no model, but the truth..
© Gwen Harwood
Daybreak
The snails brush silver. Critic crowpoints his unpleasant beak, and lances.Resumes his treetop, darts belowhis acid-bright, corrosive glances.In the..
© Gwen Harwood
Dichterliebe
So hungry-sensitive that hecraves day and night the pap of praise,he'll ease his gripes or fingerpaintin heartsblood on a public page.The ordinary..
© Gwen Harwood
The Glass Jar
To Vivian SmithA child one summer's evening soakeda glass jar in the reeling sunhoping to keep, when day was doneand all the sun's disciples..
© Gwen Harwood
The Wound
The tenth day, and they givemy mirror back. Who knowshow to drink pain, and live?I look, and the glass showsthe truth, fine as a hair,of the..
© Gwen Harwood