Giles Watson Poems
- Forget-Me-Not 'Forget me not, ' I thought you said, and ...
- Morrigan 1. Morrigan There's a way of ripping Roman ...
- Willowherb Last winter, incendiaries ignited A bloom of ...
- A Kind Of Bright Darkness There is a stile still standing in ...
- Kingfisher Leaning over a stone bridge, knowing Daubenton’s ...
- The Butcher's Wife Sometimes the flayed things have ...
- The Blessing Is the moment of sunsplashed brilliance, the ...
Giles Watson was born in Southampton, but emigrated to Australia with his parents at the age of one, and lived there for the next twenty-five years. In addition to poetry and painting, he writes essays on natural history and mediaeval visual culture, is an avid walker, photographer and amateur naturalist, and has a keen interest in theatre. His academic work has included a doctoral thesis on religion and culture in England during the Second World War. As a secondary school teacher, he has taught English, History, Drama, Sociology and Film. Much of his work is infused with his own idiosyncratic spirituality: awed by nature, steeped in history, and inspired by a quiet sense of the ... more »
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Comments about Giles Watson
'Forget me not, ' I thought you said,
and your gaze was straight and true.
I wondered, by your garden's edge,
could I disremember you?
The light refracted at your heart:
a warmth that radiated through.
'No, I dare not let them fade:
those powdered hues of pink and blue.'
'Forget me not, ' I hoped you said
as the summer bleached to white:
it was the hope that startled me,
like a swallow, into flight.
'Forget me not': I know it's true,
little flower of grace and light.
The time must come, whate'er I do
when I remember in the ...