C. F. Macintyre

PAVANE OF SEVEN PEACOCKS Slow where sunny grasses shine and flowers updigged from Ophir's mine, seven peacocks in a line . . . slow, slow, they pass. Stately, proud in bronze and green, lazuli and tourmaline, opal, iris, smaragdine, seven peacock [...]

TO A WAVE Omy foam-winged brother flying on the sea, leaping to embrace me, do not smother me ! Brother, You are older. Your green arms are strong. Ride me on your shoulder and sing the wander-song that kept you lost so long. Now that you are homing, [...]

NOT unripened, standing against the hill's lean flank, in dry grass, meekly our eyes turn westwards. Was there ever dawn and a high noon prancing, gold on the skyway? Blasts of breath we need, but the air swirls tightly past mouths flaccid, whisperin [...]

In the temple yard knelt to discuss a problem hard Confucius, by a jar of azure cloisonne where flowers in pleasure danced alway. By a porcelain bowl, Gotama, candid and calm of soul, sat looking splendid as if he were made for eternity: a statue of [...]

Resist the hub's pull. On the tangent fly into ethereous space. Or, since earth attracts you still, search Africa for spice. If you dare not leave your country, you at least can go from town, past the lowlands, past the foothills. From the height [...]