Mortality poem – John Betjeman poems
The first-class brains of a senior civil servant Shiver and shatter and fall As the steering column of his comfortable Humber Batters in the bony wall. All those delicate re-adjustments “On the one hand, if we proceed With the ad hoc policy hitherto adapted To individual need… On the other hand, too rigid an […]
Middlesex poem – John Betjeman poems
Gaily into Ruislip Gardens Runs the red electric train, With a thousand Ta’s and Pardon’s Daintily alights Elaine; Hurries down the concrete station With a frown of concentration, Out into the outskirt’s edges Where a few surviving hedges Keep alive our lost Elysium; rural Middlesex again. Well cut Windsmoor flapping lightly, Jacqmar scarf […]
Meditation on the A30 poem – John Betjeman poems
A man on his own in a car Is revenging himself on his wife; He open the throttle and bubbles with dottle and puffs at his pitiful life She’s losing her looks very fast, she loses her temper all day; that lorry won’t let me get past, this Mini is blocking my way. […]
Loneliness poem – John Betjeman poems
The last year’s leaves are on the beech: The twigs are black; the cold is dry; To deeps byond the deepest reach The Easter bells enlarge the sky. O ordered metal clatter-clang! Is yours the song the angels sang? You fill my heart with joy and grief – Belief! Belief! And unbelief… And, though […]
Ireland With Emily poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Bells are booming down the bohreens, White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maureens Move between the fields to Mass. Twisted trees of small green apple Guard the decent whitewashed chapel, Gilded gates and doorway grained, Pointed windows richly stained With many-coloured Munich glass. See the black-shawled congregations On […]
Inexpensive Progress poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Encase your legs in nylons, Bestride your hills with pylons O age without a soul; Away with gentle willows And all the elmy billows That through your valleys roll. Let’s say goodbye to hedges And roads with grassy edges And winding country lanes; Let all things travel faster Where motor car is master […]
In Westminster Abbey poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Let me take this other glove off As the vox humana swells, And the beauteous fields of Eden Bask beneath the Abbey bells. Here, where England’s statesmen lie, Listen to a lady’s cry. Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans, Spare their women for Thy Sake, And if that is not too easy We […]
How To Get On In Society poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Phone for the fish knives, Norman As cook is a little unnerved; You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes And I must have things daintily served. Are the requisites all in the toilet? The frills round the cutlets can wait Till the girl has replenished the cruets And switched on the logs in the […]
Harrow-on-the-Hill poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
When melancholy Autumn comes to Wembley And electric trains are lighted after tea The poplars near the stadium are trembly With their tap and tap and whispering to me, Like the sound of little breakers Spreading out along the surf-line When the estuary’s filling With the sea. Then Harrow-on-the-Hill’s a rocky island And […]
Guilt poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The clock is frozen in the tower, The thickening fog with sooty smell Has blanketed the motor power Which turns the London streets to hell; And footsteps with their lonely sound Intensify the silence round. I haven’t hope. I haven’t faith. I live two lives and sometimes three. The lives I live make […]
Felixstowe, or The Last of Her Order poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash and the next wave mingle, A mounting arch of water weedy-brown Against the tide the off-shore breezes blow. Oh wind and water, this is Felixstowe. In winter when the sea winds chill and […]
Executive poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner; I have a Slimline brief-case and I use the firm’s Cortina. In every roadside hostelry from here to Burgess Hill The ma?tres d’h?tel all know me well, and let me sign the bill. You ask me what it is I do. Well, […]
Dilton Marsh Halt poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Was it worth keeping the Halt open, We thought as we looked at the sky Red through the spread of the cedar-tree, With the evening train gone by? Yes, we said, for in summer the anglers use it, Two and sometimes three Will bring their catches of rods and poles and perches To […]
Diary of a Church Mouse poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Here among long-discarded cassocks, Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks, Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books. Lean and alone I spend my days Behind this Church of England baize. I share my dark forgotten room With two oil-lamps and half a broom. The cleaner never bothers me, So […]
Devonshire Street W.1 poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet. The sun still shines on this eighteenth-century scene With Edwardian faience adornment — Devonshire Street. No hope. And the X-ray photographs under his arm Confirm the message. His wife stands timidly by. The opposite brick-built house looks […]
Death In Leamington poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev’ning star That shone through the plate glass window From over Leamington Spa Beside her the lonely crochet Lay patiently and unstirred, But the fingers that would have work’d it Were dead as the spoken word. And Nurse came in with […]
Dawlish poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Bird-watching colonels on the old sea wall, Down here at Dawlish where the slow trains crawl: Low tide lifting, on a shingle shore, Long-sunk islands from the sea once more: Red cliffs rising where the wet sands run, Gulls reflecting in the sharp spring sun; Pink-washed plaster by a sheltered patch, Ilex shadows upon […]
Cornish Cliffs poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Those moments, tasted once and never done, Of long surf breaking in the mid-day sun. A far-off blow-hole booming like a gun- The seagulls plane and circle out of sight Below this thirsty, thrift-encrusted height, The veined sea-campion buds burst into white And gorse turns tawny orange, seen beside Pale drifts of […]
Christmas poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green. TThe bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across […]
Business Girls poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
From the geyser ventilators Autumn winds are blowing down On a thousand business women Having baths in Camden Town Waste pipes chuckle into runnels, Steam’s escaping here and there, Morning trains through Camden cutting Shake the Crescent and the Square. Early nip of changeful autumn, Dahlias glimpsed through garden doors, At the […]
Back From Australia poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Cocooned in Time, at this inhuman height, The packaged food tastes neutrally of clay, We never seem to catch the running day But travel on in everlasting night With all the chic accoutrements of flight: Lotions and essences in neat array And yet another plastic cup and tray. “Thank you so much. Oh no, […]
An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges Look down on ravines. The vision can travel From gable to gable, Italianate mansion And turretted stable, A sylvan expansion So varied and jolly Where laurel and holly Commingle their greens. Serene on a […]
A Subaltern’s Love Song poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament; you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your […]
A Shropshire Lad poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The gas was on in the Institute, The flare was up in the gym, A man was running a mineral line, A lass was singing a hymn, When Captain Webb the Dawley man, Captain Webb from Dawley, Came swimming along the old canal That carried the bricks to Lawley. Swimming along – Swimming along […]
A Bay In Anglesey poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The sleepy sound of a tea-time tide Slaps at the rocks the sun has dried, Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift Round low peninsulas pink with thrift. The water, enlarging shells and sand, Grows greener emerald out from land And brown over shadowy shelves below The waving forests of seaweed […]
Women’s Song Of The Corn poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
How beautiful are the corn rows, Stretching to the morning sun, Stretching to the evening sun. Very beautiful, the long rows of corn. How beautiful is the white corn, I husk it, I grind it. Very beautiful, my white corn. How beautiful is the red corn, I gather it and make fine meal, […]
Women’s Harvest Song poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
I am waving a ripe sunflower, I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters. I am joyful because of my melons, I am joyful because of my beans, I am joyful because of my squashes. The sunflower waves. So did the corn wave When the wind blew against it, So did my […]
Women’s Song Of The Corn poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
How beautiful are the corn rows, Stretching to the morning sun, Stretching to the evening sun. Very beautiful, the long rows of corn. How beautiful is the white corn, I husk it, I grind it. Very beautiful, my white corn. How beautiful is the red corn, I gather it and make fine meal, […]
Women’s Harvest Song poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
I am waving a ripe sunflower, I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters. I am joyful because of my melons, I am joyful because of my beans, I am joyful because of my squashes. The sunflower waves. So did the corn wave When the wind blew against it, So did my […]
White Currants poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
Shall I give you white currants? I do not know why, but I have a sudden fancy for this fruit. At the moment, the idea of them cherishes my senses, And they seem more desirable than flawless emeralds. Since I am, in fact, empty-handed, I might have chosen gems out of India, But […]
Vespers poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
Last night, at sunset, The foxgloves were like tall altar candles. Could I have lifted you to the roof of the greenhouse, my Dear, I should have understood their burning. Amy LowellAmy Lawrence Lowell (1874 – 1925) was an American poetess that belonged to the informal imagist, an early modernist movement, […]
Two Lacquer Prints poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
The Emperor’s Garden ONCE, in the sultry heat of midsummer, An Emperor caused the miniature mountains in his garden To be covered with white silk, That so crowned, They might cool his eyes With the sparkle of snow. Meditation A wise man, Watching the stars pass across the sky, Remarked: In the upper […]
Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
I Again the larkspur, Heavenly blue in my garden. They, at least, unchanged. II How have I hurt you? You look at me with pale eyes, But these are my tears. III Morning and evening– Yet for us once long ago Was no division. IV I hear many words. Set an hour when […]
Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
I Again the larkspur, Heavenly blue in my garden. They, at least, unchanged. II How have I hurt you? You look at me with pale eyes, But these are my tears. III Morning and evening– Yet for us once long ago Was no division. IV I hear many words. Set an hour when […]
The Travelling Bear poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
GRASS-BLADES push up between the cobblestones And catch the sun on their flat sides Shooting it back, Gold and emerald, Into the eyes of passers-by. And over the cobblestones, Square-footed and heavy, Dances the trained bear. The cobbles cut his feet, And he has a ring in his nose But still he dances, […]
Towns in Colour poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
I Red Slippers Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey, windy sleet! Behind the polished glass, the slippers hang in long threads of red, festooning from the ceiling like stalactites of blood, flooding the eyes of passers-by with dripping colour, jamming their crimson reflections against the windows […]
To-Morrow To Fresh Woods And Pastures New poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
As for a moment he stands, in hardy masculine beauty, Poised on the fircrested rock, over the pool which below him Gleams in the wavering sunlight, waiting the shock of his plunging. So for a moment I stand, my feet planted firm in the present, Eagerly scanning the future which is so soon […]
To A Husband poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River Are your words in the dark, Beloved. Amy LowellAmy Lawrence Lowell (1874 – 1925) was an American poetess that belonged to the informal imagist, an early modernist movement, which promoted a return to classical values. She posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in […]
The Travelling Bear poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
GRASS-BLADES push up between the cobblestones And catch the sun on their flat sides Shooting it back, Gold and emerald, Into the eyes of passers-by. And over the cobblestones, Square-footed and heavy, Dances the trained bear. The cobbles cut his feet, And he has a ring in his nose But still he dances, […]
The Swans poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
The swans float and float Along the moat Around the Bishop’s garden, And the white clouds push Across a blue sky With edges that seem to draw in and harden. Two slim men of white bronze Beat each with a hammer on the end of a rod The hours of God. Striking a […]