Katherine Mansfield

(14 October 1888 – 9 January 1923 / Wellington)

Katherine Mansfield Poems

1. Villa Pauline 12/31/2002
2. The Awakening River 12/31/2002
3. Night-Scented Stock 1/3/2003
4. The Arabian Shawl 12/31/2002
5. A New Hymn 12/31/2002
6. The Gulf 12/31/2002
7. To L. H. B. (1894-1915 ) 12/31/2002
8. Sanary 12/31/2002
9. Deaf House Agent 12/31/2002
10. Song By The Window Before Bed 12/31/2002
11. The Sea-Child 1/3/2003
12. Sea 12/31/2002
13. The Town Between The Hills 12/31/2002
14. Waves 12/31/2002
15. The Opal Dream Cave 12/31/2002
16. Covering Wings 12/31/2002
17. The Quarrel 12/31/2002
18. When I Was A Bird 12/31/2002
19. Song Of The Little White Girl 12/31/2002
20. Secret Flowers 4/2/2010
21. In The Rangitaki Valley 12/31/2002
22. Now I Am A Plant, A Weed... 12/31/2002
23. A Joyful Song Of Five 12/31/2002
24. Sea Song 12/31/2002
25. Song Of Karen, The Dancing Child 12/31/2002
26. Opposites 12/31/2002
27. The Wounded Bird 12/31/2002
28. The Earth-Child In The Grass 12/31/2002
29. Sorrowing Love 12/31/2002
30. To God The Father 12/31/2002
31. Fairy Tale (2) 12/31/2002
32. The Family 12/31/2002
33. Jangling Memory 12/31/2002
34. On A Young Lady's Sixth Anniversary 12/31/2002
35. The Black Monkey 12/31/2002
36. The Storm 12/31/2002
37. Spring Wind In London 12/31/2002
38. There Is A Solemn Wind Tonight 1/3/2003
39. Voices Of The Air 12/31/2002
40. The Candle 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Katherine Mansfield

Autumn Song

Now's the time when children's noses
All become as red as roses
And the colour of their faces
Makes me think of orchard places
Where the juicy apples grow,
And tomatoes in a row.

And to-day the hardened sinner
Never could be late for dinner,
But will jump up to the table
Just as soon as he is able,
Ask for three times hot roast mutton--
Oh! the shocking little glutton.

Come then, find your ball and racket,
Pop into your winter jacket,
With the lovely bear-skin lining.
While the sun is brightly shining,
Let us run and play together
And ...

Read the full of Autumn Song

To L. H. B. (1894-1915 )

Last night for the first time since you were dead
I walked with you, my brother, in a dream.
We were at home again beside the stream
Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red.
"Don't touch them: they are poisonous," I said.
But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam
Of strange, bright laughter flying round your head
And as you stooped I saw the berries gleam.
"Don't you remember? We called them Dead Man's

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