Poems by John Betjeman
Felixstowe, or The Last of Her Order
... John's."Thou knowest my down sitting and mine uprising" ...
The Hon. Sec.
... The grey-green bents, the pale sea-pinks, ...
Middlesex
... Long in Kelsal Green and Highgate silent under soot and stone ...
Where I've Been All My Life
... Meanwhile the Faithful, prostrate and intoning, ...
Amusing Our Daughters
... Patiently, patiently, ever the father, you answer their questions ...
What the Bones Know ?
... My thoughts are hot and cold ...
Afternoon Happiness
... My former husband, that old disaster, is now just funny, ...
Pro Femina
... We can say, like the ancient Chinese to successive waves of invaders, ...
Through a Glass Eye, Lightly
... happy! ... The gas wore off, she found the hole in her face ...
Fanny
... While his dear friends would have condemned him to fog and rain ...
Semele Recycled
... Arms sprang to their sockets, blind hands with nibbled nails ...
October 1973
... Dusk fell on the city as I ran, naked, weeping, into the streets ...
Summer near the River
... I glimpse you from the window, striding toward the river ...
The Intruder
... Picked up the fluttering, bleeding bat the cat laid at her feet, ...
Ingathering
... Now you smile at everything, even the priests, the militia, ...
