#EnglishWriters
The sea runs back against itself With scarcely time for breaking wa… To cannonade a slatey shelf And thunder under in a cave. Before the next can fully burst
Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my… White o’er the playpen the sheen o… Fresh from the bathroom and soft i… Soap scented fingers I long to ca… Were you a prefect and head of you…
A man on his own in a car Is revenging himself on his wife; He open the throttle and bubbles w… And puffs at his pitiful life She’s losing her looks very fast,
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev’ning star That shone through the plate glass… From over Leamington Spa Beside her the lonely crochet
Dr Ramsden cannot read The Times… He’s dead. Let monographs on silk worms by ot… Thrown away Unread
Bells are booming down the bohreen… White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maure… Move between the fields to Mass. Twisted trees of small green apple
The first-class brains of a senior… Shiver and shatter and fall As the steering column of his comf… Batters in the bony wall. All those delicate re-adjustments
When melancholy Autumn comes to W… And electric trains are lighted af… The poplars near the stadium are t… With their tap and tap and whisper… Like the sound of little breakers
In the licorice fields at Pontefr… My love and I did meet And many a burdened licorice bush Was blooming round our feet; Red hair she had and golden skin,
Up the ash tree climbs the ivy, Up the ivy climbs the sun, With a twenty-thousand pattering, Has a valley breeze begun, Feathery ash, neglected elder,
Come, friendly bombs, and fall on… It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow Swarm over, Death! Come, bombs, and blow to smitheree…
Walking from school is a consummat… Which route to follow to avoid the… Which paths to find that lead, cir… To leafy squirrel haunts and plopp… For dreams of Archibald and Tiger…
We used to picnic where the thrift Grew deep and tufted to the edge; We saw the yellow foam flakes drif… In trembling sponges on the ledge Below us, till the wind would lift
To a shady retreat in the reeds and rushes of the River Ches. ‘It’s the trees, the fairy dingles, and a hundred and one things in which dame nature’s fingers have lingered long in setti...
The last year’s leaves are on the… The twigs are black; the cold is d… To deeps beyond the deepest reach The Easter bells enlarge the sky. O ordered metal clatter-clang!