Patrick Dennis Poems

Joy is a way of looking at
you & me & this & that,
and all things that may
oh - heaven knows - cause us grief
...

Down from the trees, a Kookaburra,
tempted by the throwdown of meat, descends,
hops, chuckles and gobbles; and bounces back.
...

My memories are yesterday in the fern place
under the great convent house at Clermont,
going out for the last time from the lash
and curse of nuns. Unrehearsed, you come to me
...

'And there were in the same country shepherds watching and keeping the night watch over their flock.' (Luke 2: 8

On the icy dark, the ghostly shape of shepherds:
and the sheep like clumps of rock on the sea's shore
...

I feel but cannot hear the downward beat
of the owl's wings which seem to move
like a poem on feathered air.
...

I have seen snowcapped mountains and pristine fields
adorned with the blush and hues of Heaven;
but I live here on this arid plain
stretched four ways to infinity.
...

Poems should clang
and pull against
like the tongues of church bells
out of synch with their housing.
...

Fire purges in His fierce ecstasy all things of sap and clay
and takes to Himself - oh! - the refined and raptured brides of Fire.

Charcoal, well dried, longs for the Fire
...

Great grooves round your stiff hide
and clanks of bone mark your last struggle - -
there were many times all you needed extra
was a foal's strength to heave up your great body
...

As we gather, you and I
take up wings and let us fly
to the little town of Bethlehem
and beside the shepherds kneel with them
...