Biography of Margery Rehman
Originally from Scotland, I came to Pakistan many years ago. I read History at university but my profession was in communications.
I am most moved by the poetry of Rilke and Yeats, I am enamoured of the style and clarity of Auden, and the elegance of Eliot and Verlaine as well as appreciating the immediacy and passion of more contempory poets.
Margery Rehman Poems
After you died I couldn't piece you together. It frightened me a bit. The more I longed for you The more fragmented you became.
Restless, pacing panther-like, I prowl the palace Preparing for the gods to punish me, As is my fate.
How Many Miles To Babylon.
(The real nursery rhyme goes; How many miles to Babylon? Three score and ten. Can I get there by candlelight?
By The River In Summer Long Ago.
Hot, long lazy days Sun dazed dragonflies skimming Light filters through leaves We swim among the lilies
Sunset In Muscat.
The sun begins to set behind Burnt umber hills, Singeing them with fiery red, And spreads its light
Flashes From Childhood 1. The Clydesdale...
How we loved them. In an otherwise grey world These blinkered, patient creatures Gave us such delight as
12th May 2007.Karachi.
Stuttering gunfire Bodies like rags lie in heaps On the burning road Blood dries out fast in the heat
Good Poetry; To A Friend Who Has Views O...
My thanks for being critical To pointing out how factual Too biographically actual Too formal, too literal
Flashes From Childhood 2.; The Lamplight...
Up on the hill In the posh areas Where the Victorian villas Were set back from tree lined roads,
Landscape Inspired By Sibelius First Sym...
In this lonely brooding place The old gods still have power, still reign. Here the rough-hewn hills around the lake Stand out like ramparts, built by them,
Like brilliant diamonds in the skies Is the sparkle in Naomi's eyes Gleaming from beneath straight brows In a sculptured classic face that tries
Chiara Sophia comes through the door Does a cartwheel on the floor Over and over, upside down And downside up she turns around,
Carnival Evening (Painting By Henri 'Dua...
A sense of peace and balance. A pattern with a darkening sky. Three disconnected clouds fly by As if forgotten
Flashes Of Childhood 3-The Bombsite.
An open space, pitted with ditches, Jagged places, filled with debris. We were warned not to play there But what child could resist it?
The hoopoe never came this year.
Instead, kites have spread
Out from the inner city
And hover overhead
Waiting to pounce and feed
On some small creature,
Frightening even the crows.