POETRY IN NEW ZEALAND

New Zealand Listener, Volume 30, Issue 776, 4 June 1954, Page 5

POETRY IN NEW ZEALAND

Sir,-As I was meditating today upon your correspondence columns, the following verses fell into shape in my mind. They may be of interest to your readers: I remember, I remember, In my unregenerate teens I wrote of mountain-scenery, Of buried kings and queens: The verses on the whole were flat, On crutches they did sprawl, For woman, lovely woman, Had no part in them at all. But when I came to college And a share of man’s estate To a bonny black-eyed beauty My soul did gravitate. The rhymes came running heel-and-toe As to the dinner-gong, For woman, lovely woman, Was the subject of my song. A man may be a fool, I grant, To dangle in despair From a lady’s goldén bangle By a thread of silken hair; . : But let him leave the jades, he’ll find His dictionary no use, For woman, lovely woman, Is the mother of the Muse. A few among the blessed Saints, A very, very few, Wrote real verse: they generally Had better things to do. But pious poets by the score Clutter our local scene; For woman, lovely woman, They do not care a bean. The lasses, I have heard it said, Are serpents in disguise, Yet they soothe our fractious intellects With dreams of Paradise. Though for our improprieties In Purgatory we smart, Yet woman, lovely woman, Is the paragon of Art. My blessing on you,.G.H.D., And Mr. Reid likewise, Who look upon our errant youth With trouble in your eyes: I would not contradict you From contrariness or spite, But woman, lovely woman, Is the reason why I write.

JAMES K.

BAXTER

(Wellington).