Counting The Beats
You, love, and I,(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and
What care you or I
Counting the beats,
You, love, and I,(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and
What care you or I
Counting the beats,
Look at my knees, That island rising from the steamy seas
The candles a tall lightship; my two hands Are boats and barges anchored to the sands, With mighty cliffs all round;
They’re full of wine and riches from far lands…
I wonder ...
Call it a good marriage -For no one ever
Her warmth, his masculinity,
Their interlocking views;
Except one stray
He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images
He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images
Double red daisies, they’re my flowers, Which nobody else may grow
In a big quarrelsome house like ours They try it sometimes—but no, I root them up because they’re my flowers, Which nobody else may grow
Claire has a tea-rose, but she di...
I never dreamed we’d meet that day In our old haunts down Fricourt way, Plotting such marvellous journeys there For jolly old “Après-la-guerre
” Well, when it’s over, first we’ll meet At Gweithdy Bach, my country seat In Wales, a curious litt...
At Viscount Nelson’s lavish funeral,
While the mob milled and yelled about St Paul’s,
A General chatted with an Admiral:“One of your colleagues,
Sir, remarked
August 6, 1916
—Officer previously reported died of wounds, now reported wounded:
Graves,
Captain R
“Is that the Three-and-Twentieth,
Strabo mine, Marching below, and we still gulping wine
” From the sad magic of his fragrant cup The red-faced old centurion started up, Cursed, battered on the table
“No,” he said,“Not that
The child alone a poet is:
Spring and Fairyland are his
Truth and Reason show but dim,
And all’s poetry with him
Back from the line one night in June, I gave a dinner at Bethune— Seven courses, the most gorgeous meal Money could buy or batman steal
Five hungry lads welcomed the
With shouts that nearly cracked the dish; Asparagus came with tender to...
I now delight In spite Of the might And the right Of classic tradition,
In writing And reciting Straight ahead, Without let or omission, Just any little
In any little time That runs in my head; Because,
I’ve said, My rhymes no longe...