Frank Stuart Flint Poems

Brother.
I saw you on a muddy road
in France
pass by with your battalion,
...

The young men of the world
Are condemned to death.
They have been called up to die
For the crime of their fathers.
...

EVENING and quiet:
a bird trills in the poplar trees
behind the house with the dark green door
across the road.
...

FRAIL beauty,
green, gold and incandescent whiteness,
narcissi, daffodils,
you have brought me Spring and longing,
...

ELM trees
and the leaf the boy in me hated
long ago -
rough and sandy.
...

ON black bare trees a stale cream moon
hangs dead, and sours the unborn buds.

Two gaunt old hacks, knees bent, heads low,
tug, tired and spent, an old horse tram.
...

I MOVE:
perhaps I have wakened;
this is a bed;
this is a room;
and there is light . . .
...

DEAR one!
you sit there
in the corner of the carriage;
and you do not know me;
...

. . . THAT night I loved you
in the candlelight.
Your golden hair
strewed the sweet whiteness of the pillows
...

I
London, my beautiful,
It is not the sunset
Nor the pale green sky
Shimmering through the curtain
...