Zora Bernice May Cross

(18 May 1890 – 22 January 1964 / Brisbane)

Zora Bernice May Cross Poems

1. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xxiv 4/10/2010
2. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xxix 4/10/2010
3. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xxvii 4/10/2010
4. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xxxi 4/10/2010
5. The Fairie's Fair 1/1/2004
6. Love Sonnet Xxvi 4/10/2010
7. Love Sonnet Xxv 4/10/2010
8. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xl 4/10/2010
9. Sonnet Of Motherhood Viii 4/10/2010
10. Love Sonnet Xvii 4/10/2010
11. Love Sonnet Xliv 4/10/2010
12. Sonnet Of Motherhood X 4/10/2010
13. Sonnet Of Motherhood Vi 4/10/2010
14. Love Sonnet Lviii 4/10/2010
15. Love Sonnet Lx 4/10/2010
16. Love Sonnet Xxi 4/10/2010
17. Love Sonnet Xxix 4/10/2010
18. Love Sonnet Xxviii 4/10/2010
19. Sonnet Of Motherhood Xlv 4/10/2010
20. Elegy On An Australian Schoolboy 4/10/2010
21. Love Sonnet Xxxv 4/10/2010
22. Love Sonnet Liv 4/10/2010
23. Love Sonnet Xlix 4/10/2010
24. Love Sonnet Xv 4/10/2010
25. Fortune 1/1/2004
26. Love Sonnet Xlii 4/10/2010
27. Books 1/1/2004
28. Memory 1/1/2004
29. Love Sonnet X 4/10/2010
30. Girl-Gladness 1/1/2004
31. The New Moon 1/1/2004

Comments about Zora Bernice May Cross

  • Bryan Manning (9/28/2005 3:00:00 AM)

    Too Victorian. I'm turned off by overusage of maidens and fairies in poetry.

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
Best Poem of Zora Bernice May Cross

The New Moon

What have you got in your knapsack fair,
White moon, bright moon, pearling the air,
Spinning your bobbins and fabrics free,
Fleet moon, sweet moon, in to the sea?
Turquoise and beryl and rings of gold,
Clear moon, dear moon, ne’er to be sold?
Roses and lilies, romance and love,
Still moon, chill moon, swinging above?
Slender your feet as a white birds throat,
High moon, shy moon, drifting your boat
Into the murk of the world awhile,
Slim moon, dim moon, adding a smile.
Tender your eyes as a maiden’s kiss,
Fine moon, wine moon, no one knows this,
Under ...

Read the full of The New Moon


Dame Fortune’s jade with a fanciful horn
Of silver ambitions she warns of the flame;
With pearls for the princes and tears night and morn
For poor little poets who fluttered for fame,
Who smile when she sings as she dances along;
"Come; woo me with courage and delicate song."
I followed her once, but she wearied me soon.
All careless was I of her roseate quest.
I built a dream house, while the stars were in tune,

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