PASSION BY KATHLEEN RAINE

PASSION BY KATHLEEN RAINE 

Full of desire I lay, the sky wounding me, 

Each cloud a ship without me sailing, each tree 

Possessing what my soul lacked, tranquility. 

Waiting for the longed-for voice to speak 

Through the mute telephone, my body grew weak 

With the well-known and mortal death, heartbreak. 

The language I knew best, my human speech 

Forsook my fingers, and out of reach 

Were Homer’s ghosts, the savage cinches of the beach. 

Then the sky spoke to me in language clear, 

Familiar as the heart, than love more near. 

The sky said to my soul, `You have what you desire. 

`Know now that you are born along with these 

Clouds, winds, and stars, and ever-moving seas 

And forest dwellers. This your nature is. 

Lift up your heart again without fear, 

Sleep in the tomb, or breathe the living air, 

This world you with the flower and with the tiger share.’ 

Then I saw every visible substance turn 

Into immortal, every cell new born 

Burned with the holy fire of passion. 

This world I saw as on her judgment day 

When the war ends, and the sky rolls away, 

And all is light, love and eternity.

THE QUARREL BY ELEANOR FARJEON

THE QUARREL BY ELEANOR FARJEON 

It is common for brothers and sisters to quarrel, although sometimes they may not even be able to say why they quarrel. But how long do such quarrels last? How do they end? 

I quarrelled with my brother 

I don’t know what about, 

One thing led to another 

And somehow we fell out. 

The start of it was slight, 

The end of it was strong, 

He said he was right, 

I knew he was wrong! 

We hated one another. 

The afternoon turned black. 

Then suddenly my brother 

Thumped me on the back, 

And said, “Oh, come along! 

We can’t go on all night — 

I was in the wrong.” 

So he was in the right.

WORDS BY SYLVIA PLATH

WORDS BY SYLVIA PLATH 

Axes 

After whose stroke the wood rings, 

And the echoes! 

Echoes traveling 

Off from the center like horses. 

The sap 

Wells like tears, like the 

Water striving 

To re-establish its mirror 

Over the rock 

That drops and turns, 

A white skull, 

Eaten by weedy greens. 

Years later I 

Encounter them on the road---- 

Words dry and riderless, 

The indefatigable hoof-taps. 

While 

From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars 

Govern a life.

ALL BUT BLIND BY WALTER DE LA MARE

ALL BUT BLIND BY WALTER DE LA MARE

All but blind

In his chambered hole

Gropes for worms

The four-clawed Mole.

All but blind

In the evening sky

The hooded Bat

Twirls softly by.

All but blind

In the burning day

The Barn Owl blunders

On her way.

And blind as are

These three to me,

So, blind to Someone

I must be.