Poetry

John Whitworth: Five Poems

Lonesome  (I stole line 10 from John Betjeman) There’s a girl lives in the forest, In the cottage of All Alone, Her skin as white as far starlight, And her face as sharp as bone. In the dreaming depths of the forest, She croons her lin-lan-lone, Her voice as free as deep blue sea Where winds and waters moan, Where great firs of the forest Coniferously moan, Where a pale moon shines and pines repine Their mournful monotone, Where creatures of the forest, The Whiskered Barbitone And the Lonesome Loris, dance nine men’s morris To an ancient gramophone. Cambera bambera…

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