by Sharmagne Leland St. John Nikolai 1982-1983 You never saw the spring my love Or the red-tailed hawk circling high above On feathered wings my love You only knew the snow You never saw the prairie grasses bend and blow And undulate like the shimmering indigo sea You never saw me Your eyes were closedContinue reading “Tiny Warrior”
Author Archives: Robin
Fox-Hunting
by Rudyard Kipling The Fox Meditates When Samson set my brush afire, To spoil the Timnites barley, I made my point for Leicestershire And left Philistia early. Through Gath and Rankesborough Gorse I fled, And took the Copslow Road, sir! And was a Gentleman in Red When all the Quorn wore woad, sir! When RomeContinue reading “Fox-Hunting”
Lucifer and his little devils take a load off the editor’s shoulders
In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was spelt E-D-I-T-O-R. Since the news sheets of the 17th century metamorphosed into the newspapers of the 19th and 20th centuries the editor, who might once have been reporter, typesetter and even printer all in one, grew to become the final arbiter regarding what appeared inContinue reading “Lucifer and his little devils take a load off the editor’s shoulders”
To An Absent Lover
by Helen Hunt Jackson That so much change should come when thou dost go, Is mystery that I cannot ravel quite. The very house seems dark as when the light Of lamps goes out. Each wonted thing doth grow So altered, that I wander to and fro Bewildered by the most familiar sight, And feelContinue reading “To An Absent Lover”
The Miner
by Henrik Ibsen translated by Fydell Edmund Garrett Beetling rock, with roar and smoke Break before my hammer-stroke! Deeper I must thrust and lower Till I hear the ring of ore. From the mountain’s unplumbed night, Deep amid the gold-veins bright, Diamonds lure me, rubies beckon, Treasure-hoard that none may reckon. There is peace withinContinue reading “The Miner”
Twice Shy
by Seamus Heaney Her scarf a la Bardot, In suede flats for the walk, She came with me one evening For air and friendly talk. We crossed the quiet river, Took the embankment walk. Traffic holding its breath, Sky a tense diaphragm: Dusk hung like a backcloth That shook where a swan swam, Tremulous asContinue reading “Twice Shy”
Take your pick on our origins but it all leads back to socialism
In the beginning . . . What? Was there nothing and did some supernatural being create all we have now? OR; Was there nothing except a tiny condensed spot of everything which then started to expand, like a magician’s box out of which you can pull everything you need, from tiny grains of sand toContinue reading “Take your pick on our origins but it all leads back to socialism”
The Waradgery tribe
Dame Mary Gilmore Australian socialist and poet Harried we were, and spent, broken and falling, ere as the cranes we went, crying and calling. Summer shall see the bird backward returning; never shall there be heard those who went yearning. Emptied of us the land; ghostly our going; fallen like spears the hand dropped inContinue reading “The Waradgery tribe”
Springtime carries you forward – and promises a glorious summer
The Spring of 1973 was a glorious time. As far as I was concerned the sun shone every day; I was raking in the stories for the Standard Recorder; my circle of socialist-minded friends was widening; my social circle was a round of fun, parties and theatre; and I was getting to spend more andContinue reading “Springtime carries you forward – and promises a glorious summer”
The Dream Called Life
by Edward Fitzgerald From the Spanish of Pedro Calvadon de la Barca A dream it was in which I found myself. And you that hail me now, then hailed me king, In a brave palace that was all my own, Within, and all without it, mine, until, Drunk with excess of majesty and pride, MethoughtContinue reading “The Dream Called Life”
Robin's Nest 