Time that is moved by little fidget wheels
Is not my time, the flood that does not flow.
Between the double and the single bell
Of a ship's hour, between a round of bells
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Verticals of light! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Time that is moved by little fidget wheels Is not my time, the flood that does not flow. Between the double and the single bell Of a ship's hour, between a round of bells From the dark warship riding there below, very fine poem.
A remarkable piece of work. Apparently written in the mid 30s, over a fifteen month period, about the death by drowning of his friend Joe Lynch who fell overboard from a Sydney Harbour ferry in 1927, laden down with bottles of grog in his pockets. I was totally captured from " Ferry the falls of moonshine down.. " . Much admired poem by great Australian poets who followed Slessor such as Les Murray and Clive James...
What a marvelous poem! He writes with excellent imagery, alliteration, and fresh use of words. I never heard of this poet. Thank yu for posting...
after my thorougher analysis of this piece of literature i have arrived at the conclusion that it is indeed a poem with words within it.
I want to please Shrek. He roars a mighty roar, as he fills me with his love. My dad walks in. Shrek looks him straight in the eye, and says, " It's all ogre now" . Shrek leaves through my window. Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
XD......................................................................
An interesting rendition nicely penned with lucidity of thought