Biography of Julian Mann
Julian Mann Poems
My Sorrows Slept
All my sorrows slept In your hair last night For once they were As tired as I
Another Faery Song
I followed my love to a glade, And there upon a web I played A tune from the stream I'd learned, And then she danced among the ferns.
May And New Love
If you've ever heard leaves rustle In a cool May night, Or seen trees dance In village streetlamp light,
My Roving Art
With an infant's joy I view the brook, Its many wonders pass my eye: A restless leaf the land forsook; Ripples that beg the wind's reply.
Down Autumn's Lane
Historic Market Town
In many ways it's the perfect day To see the county town of a shire; A misty morning gives a fair warning Which sunlight could not inspire.
Now The Heady Bonfire Air
Now the heady bonfire air Takes me far away somewhere From the fire and smoke and yet To their very birth near a farm sunset
Now The Hedges Are Bearing Gifts
Now the hedges are bearing gifts Which human hands to the sun will lift To find any red on a berry black And if any red that berry lacks
Now The Sun Goes To Its Rest
Now the sun goes to its rest Behind a hedge by dewdrops blest At eventide when lovers meet And down the lane with springing feet
The Pale Hand Of Summer Rain
I looked out to rainy gardens As they spoke of invoices And knew there would be days again When I would brush the cheek and hold
The Night Road
I'll meet you along the night road, Not far from where an orchard showed To me some lapping waters new, For me at least, though more than a few
In This Study
In this study: Here is all time. You can brush your hair And dream of passing things;
How Complete The Fields Look
How complete the fields look When between them runs a brook Giving life to plains all still But for soft grass that in a chill
In Nature There Is A Power
In nature there is a power That wills all saddened hearts To joy, as each closed flower Bears the strength the sun imparts;
Historic Market Town
In many ways it's the perfect day
To see the county town of a shire;
A misty morning gives a fair warning
Which sunlight could not inspire.
From the road we see
Woods hills, pubs streams,
And fields that roll up and down
Near a historic market town.