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 ...
- Downland Paths Downland paths are arched to contours; their...
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 ...