I bought a slim volume of Modern Poetry (in the literary sense, not in the “written-last-week” sense) when I was in Melbourne and read some on the train from Prahran to Sandringham. I discovered that Kipling, whom I have always associated with The Jungle Book and the Just So Stories, was also a pretty sweet [...]
poetry
When You are Old – WB Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But [...]
A cup of tea
Cup of tea, Sit, drink, think Of tannins, leaves, and open skies Enamel mug, and overbrewed, Cracks let through The metal tang
