G. Grant

G. Grant Poems

Does the child shrill inside,
When you say "kill".
"My Proto babe" Unborn, To sing, live love
As He bid, As He did?
...

Will the child I might lose, in the profoundest
time I pass, In hope
Still adorn His highest Kingdom? Bless?
Watch men, down here pass by
...

Is it in Ogham set, that love did not spell
Bethluision or fearn, Bobelith?
In birch hazel oak, before the Vine, or Ancient
firelight bid?
...

The Best Poem Of G. Grant

Feminist Woman (In Holocaust)

Does the child shrill inside,
When you say "kill".
"My Proto babe" Unborn, To sing, live love
As He bid, As He did?

Where did you come from then? And when?
At which precise moment were you made "human",
Deemed "Fit to live"?
So you can kill such?
Tell me, woman man,
When will you return in perfect form
To him?
Does the test of time change your mind About
The child, about God
Because technology can?

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