Smoke from factory chimneys is black, and foul, and thick,
Rolling in slow curls that blur the ocean-line,
A giant full of malice, it o'er-spreads the morning sky
As if to blot the sunshine out of this heart of mine.
Smoke from pine-wood bonfires is fragrant in the night,
Rising in gusts of whiteness and sparks that soar and die;
Smoke from country bonfires has memories in its haze
Of poplar-spears and fir-incense, and stars and midnight sky.
Smoke from cottage chimneys is friendly, cheerful smoke,
Standing straight above them like a flimsy, greyish spire,
Smoke from cottage chimneys sends a message through the night
Of steaming tea, and slippers, and an armchair by the fire.
First published in The Australian Women's Weekly, 8 June 1935
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
Rolling in slow curls that blur the ocean-line,
A giant full of malice, it o'er-spreads the morning sky
As if to blot the sunshine out of this heart of mine.
Smoke from pine-wood bonfires is fragrant in the night,
Rising in gusts of whiteness and sparks that soar and die;
Smoke from country bonfires has memories in its haze
Of poplar-spears and fir-incense, and stars and midnight sky.
Smoke from cottage chimneys is friendly, cheerful smoke,
Standing straight above them like a flimsy, greyish spire,
Smoke from cottage chimneys sends a message through the night
Of steaming tea, and slippers, and an armchair by the fire.
First published in The Australian Women's Weekly, 8 June 1935
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
