The Swamp by Myra Morris

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I can forget it in the day--
That haunting shape of ill
That broods above the flooded swamp,
Oppressing it until
The waters dark with secrets lie,
Withdrawn and deadly still.

I can forget it in the day,
For then the kingcups' gold
Embroiders all the reedy edge,
And lily-buds unfold --
Their whiteness where thick stems go down
To depths unplumbed and cold.

And silver birds on silver sticks
Stay moveless by the brim,
And shallows break in silver swirls,
And gauzy creatures skim
The ripples laving with their light   
Reed, blade, and lonely limb ....

But in the night, long, long before
The moon begins to climb.
Strange sounds from eerie haunts ring out,
And things as old as time
Drag snuffling through the water-weeds,
And creep along the slime.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 20 August 1938

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on August 20, 2012 9:38 AM.

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