Dearest Reader,

I’ve had some fortunate time this holiday to put together a few bits more poetry, which I’ll happily present here. Also I’ve had a chance to do some reading and aside from having a chance to look over the renowned Edmund Spenser, I’ve also found the interesting poetry of Richard Crashaw, which I can recommend to the reader.

Here are my simpler attempts at some rhymes, happily eclipsed by my previous recommendations!

The Castle

These are the castles and the crowns
That adorned Bedlam
Once
Torn about by peace
And the industry of time.
The shadows of conquest
Crippled
And the fragments of war
Strewn artless
In and out among the turf.
Where our bygone heroes trod
Where besieger and besieged cried
To their God and their King
There is a park laid out
Children’s swings rattle
Full of cheer
And with thoughts dressed as Robin Hoods
And Maid Marians
We pretend a romantic idea
Of a past beyond memory
Of bows and arrows
Knights and damsels
Underneath the well quiet turf.

 

A Winter Sunrise

Where wends the verdant meadow
About the blarney dawn?
That charms the winter songbird,
And wakes the dew-frost lawn.
The waters, shy,
Reflect the sky
Where one more day is born.

Sundered in the roaming west
December’s head lays down
And with the long year laid to rest
Another gains its crown.
It shan’t be glum,
New life will come,
The gleam in winter’s frown.

The days are dark, the woods are cold,
The hills are damp and bare,
But day is up and bright and gold
And winter will look fair.
These pretty days
Of frosty haze
Are cold and calm, and rare.