Books of Imagination

Ξ October 10th, 2005 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Words |

    Old Woman (segment)

      Once she was beautiful, and knew it;
      Once her blood's fire burned in a man's veins
      Night after night, and her colours
      Enflamed the coals of his heart.

      Who may see that now,
      When the nurses bring her things and swear
      Behind her back because she cannot hold
      A spoon, or manage all the stairs?

    A Poem for Ann (segment)

      Three feet small
      With dreams as big as Christmas.
      A cornfield of curls
      And a smile that would melt a soldier.
      When you cry
      All of you falls to pieces;
      Everyone comes running to meet you...

    Curlews (segment)

      Down at the river and always far away
      I hear them, high voices crying,
      The sky over that way blue and pale as opals.
      Until it is dark I hear them mourning
      Like lovers leaving for another land,
      Circling over the summer river pools
      The sea in their wings now, in their voices,
      As they rise, restless, still cry and cry,
      Till the first white stars have flowed like pearls
      Through the water of the skies.

    - Kenneth Steven.

    One of his lesser known claims to fame is that years back he came second in a poetry competition to my mum.


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