A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Against the planks of the cabin side,
(So slight a thing between them and me,)
The great waves thundered and throbbed and sighed,
The great green waves of the Indian sea!
Your face was white as the foam is white,
Your hair was curled as the waves are curled,
I would we had steamed and reached that night
The sea’s last edge, the end of the world.
The wind blew in through the open port,
So freshly joyous and salt and free,
Your hair it lifted, your lips it sought,
And then swept back to the open sea.
The engines throbbed with their constant beat;
Your heart was nearer, and all I heard;
Your lips were salt, but I found them sweet,
While, acquiescent, you spoke no word.
So straight you lay in your narrow berth,
Rocked by the waves; and you seemed to be
Essence of all that is sweet on earth,
Of all that is sad and strange at sea.
And you were white as the foam is white,
Your hair was curled as the waves are curled.
Ah! had we but sailed and reached that night,
The sea’s last edge, the end of the world!
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External links
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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Sunflowers by Martin Willitts Jr.
- Morning by Mark R Slaughter
- Speaking the Language of Deer by Martin Willitts Jr.
- Mending Socks by Martin Willitts Jr.
- Some Say by Mark Miller
- So You Say by Mark Strand
- Manure by Mark R Slaughter
- Slag by Mark Base
- Mammary Tunes by Mark R Slaughter
- She and Drugs by Mark R Slaughter
- Sculpture of Debris on the Waterfront by Martina Reisz Newberry
- Lines For Winter by Mark Strand
- Life, wait for me by Martin Zakovski
- Question mark remarks by Mark Miller
- Life by Marvin Bell
- Postures by Martina Reisz Newberry
- My Father’s Hats by Mark Irwin
- Let Him Free by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Keeping Things Whole by Mark Strand
- Please Don’t Judas Me by Mark Miller
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Violet Nicolson ( 1865 – 1904); otherwise known as Adela Florence Nicolson (née Cory), was an English poetess who wrote under the pseudonym of Laurence Hope, however she became known as Violet Nicolson. In the early 1900s, she became a best-selling author. She committed suicide and is buried in Madras, now Chennai, India.