Field Days - by
Old Davie still did much farm work by hand.
/ Tae thin neeps, ye gae up an doon thae rowse.
/ Leave…
sonnets
To My Love - by
Shall I compare you to an Autumn day?
The seasons, love, have grown more temperate.
Rough winds have shaken us along the way,
The summers gone too far to contemplate.
Sonnet On My Wife’s Birthday - by
All the love I have will not take her years away:
/ All the knowledge given not grant her time release,
/ Yet one…
After Visiting an Asylum - by
I saw them sitting on a grassy bank –
/ Under the shade of mighty trees they were;
/ Yet those they saw…
Lines Before Going - by
Soon is the night of our faring to regions unknown,
/ There not to flinch at the challenge suddenly thrown
/ By the great…
Listening for Lost People - by
Spring heat, a cherry / tree’s fresh bronze leaves fan out and gleam – to / converse with shades, yourself…
Early Morning, West Hartlepool, 1963 - by
(from the photo with the same title by Don McCullin)
/
/ A pipe fitter’s mate at the gates of dawn
/ Is wrenched from…
German Prisoners - by
When first I saw you in the curious street,
/ Like some platoon of soldier ghosts in grey,
/ My mad impulse was…
Sonnet viii - by
My Lute, bee as thou wast when thou didst grow
/ With thy greene Mother in some shadie Grove,
/ When immelodious Windes but…
First Love - by
They say I should not wait about your street,
/ nor call upon your friends to hear of you,
/ or go to places…
Two Sonnets - by
I
/ Saints have adored the lofty soul of you.
/ Poets have whitened at your high renown.
/ We stand among the many millions who
/ Do…
The Victoria Falls - by
So hushed, so hot, the broad Zambesi lies
/ Above the Falls, and on her weedy isles
/ Swing antic monkeys swarm malignant…