Harold Monro Poems
|1.||Child Of Dawn||1/1/2004|
|2.||Children Of Love||4/21/2010|
|11.||Man Carrying Bale||4/21/2010|
|13.||Milk For The Cat||4/21/2010|
|14.||Overheard On A Salmarsh||4/21/2010|
|18.||The Bird At Dawn||4/21/2010|
|19.||The Nightingale Near The House||4/21/2010|
|20.||The Rebellious Vine||4/21/2010|
|21.||The Silent Pool||4/23/2012|
|23.||Two Poems: (Numbers I And X In 'strange Meetings.')||4/21/2010|
|26.||Youth In Arms||4/21/2010|
Milk For The Cat
When the tea is brought at five o'clock,
And all the neat curtains are drawn with care,
The little black cat with bright green eyes
Is suddenly purring there.
At first she pretends, having nothing to do,
She has come in merely to blink by the grate,
But, though tea may be late or the milk may be
She is never late.
And presently her agate eyes
Take a soft large milky haze,
And her independent casual glance
Becomes a stiff, hard gaze.
Then she stamps her claws or lifts her ears,
Or twists her tail and begins to stir,
Till suddenly ...
Children Of Love
The holy boy
Went from his mother out in the cool of the day
Over the sun-parched fields
And in among the olives shining green and shining grey.
There was no sound,
No smallest voice of any shivering stream.
Poor sinless little boy,
He desired to play and to sing; he could only sigh and dream.