51 Poems by Christian Croil Vlasto
1932-1953
This collection of poems were written by the artist and writer Christian Croil Vlasto who presented many of them, illustrated, to her nephew Christopher Long as a christening present on 23 October 1948. Others from the series are included here for completeness.
In the early 1950s Christian settled in Karachi, in the newly created republic of Pakistan with her husband Ghulam Abbas. They had met in London when he was working for the BBC.
by Christian Vlasto
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Written before my 10th birthday
Tomorrow is a happy day,
But No!
I think,
I cannot say
What is the matter.
No! No! It seems I ne'er can part
The thought which cleaves within my heart
Today.
The Dormouse (1935)
Oh little dormouse round and fat
You harmless carefree little rat
Among the corn in slumber deep,
Oh corn! Our mouse in safety keep.
Oh keep him snug tucked right away
Beyond the reach of birds of prey
Beyond the howling winds and rain
Keep him far from wound or pain.
Oh little mouse with velvet head
Where could you find a safer bed
With wheat and flowers on whom to pour
Your sorrows when your heart is sore.
A Letter (about 1938)
Dear Heather,
I know the sea does between us lie
And a vast expanse of Autumn Sky
But this hankie I send to you as a token
Of five years' mutual though friendship unspoken
Long in the making,
A big undertaking
The tacking, the stitching,
The tippets of lace in
Never enough room to ease round the bends
Taut in the middle and bumps at the ends
My thumbs were pressed pink with the pinpricks.
While I sat and stitched my soul just itched
To be out and away in the fields to play
- but behold, it is done! The lace and the linen are one
Perhaps when it's scented with lilac or rose
It may honourably polish the bridal nose
And by giving satisfaction in every way
Add the finishing touch to your wedding day.
Excitement (1938)
I peered into the coalshed to find excitement there
And as I'd thought, caught
About slumberous lumps of velvety coal
I heard him peeling from the white washed wall
So I shut the door quick
For I feared the grip
Of his rasping call
And I turned to seek him elsewhere.
I went into the garden
Thinking I might find excitement there
Where, in the sunlight spread over the daisied grass
I sought him basking in more gentle mood
But he caught me unawares,
And with the intensity of the sun at noon
He swept over me, and so I wept.
Cold (1940)
White wires in the half-light stricken dumb
By the fading embers of a sunken sun.
Grey grass curling backwards
From the cold road's stony glare.
The wind strikes slanting upward
And mingles with my hair.
The Mad Moon (1940)
I opened my mouth to yawn and the moon jumped in,
The trees peeped through the corners of my eyes,
My tears shattered the stars.
Down the dark slope the infernal din
Reverberated round in my ears,
The drone of buses and cars.
The quivering gates shall keep the day
Locked out with the twinkling lights
For tonight right here in the park I'll stay
A hundred vacant years.
The Wait (1940) A sonnet
The wind races over the cold hillside
While by the Greenline post I wait and watch
For the long crawling caterpillar coach
It seems almost I could suspend the time]
To keep it fast, forever round the bend
And cheat the moon, and swell its broad outline
With sunlit pleasures of the past weekend.
I wait, champing of the cows pressed close
Against the hollow of my ear. No thorn
Impales that dull dark sound, nor wind whose
Wild ravagings would claim the night its own
Could stir the calm that sifted out of day,
No word can ever charm my wait away.
The Shower (Sept 1941)
In summer out-of-doors was mine,
Full all of every day.
The wind did blow, the sun did shine
Where I did race and play.
Then I beheld the Autumn's rain
On instant cupped my hand
I closed my eyes and prayed that pain
Might never touch the Land.
But Lo! It was a cloud that passed
Swift over grass grown cold
For when my eyes again were op'ed
I held a drink of gold.
I Lay Me Down (1942)
I lay me down on the scented thyme
Thistles at my head were growing
Shaking out their silvered crowns
Arrow-tipped in sunlight glowing.
I lay me down, the silken breeze
Stole about my sun warmed limbs
Lifting my dress above my knees
Mushroom round and berry down
I lay me down, the sun grew hotter
The grasses stirred to the wind's gavotte
Began to reel, the sun to totter
Into a green and rhythmic shade.
Escape (1942)
I'm lonely, will you come with me and play
Among the summer hills
To fill me with that happiness of years
That finds no relief in tears
But in the sunny pastures
Sheds in forgetfulness, delight;
Come, bring with you your laughter
And I shall lose my night.
I'm lonely, will you come with me and play
Among the summer hills
To fill me with that happiness of years
That finds no relief in tears
But in the sunny pastures
Sheds in forgetfulness, delight;
Come, bring with you your laughter
And I shall lose my night.
Early Morning Sunrise (1942)
Bright is the grass and the light through the leaves
When the sun gets up in the East to please
Those who awake to its golden call.
I, for one, can never withstand
The song of the thrush and the dew-soaked land
So I hastily dress and join it all.
Which Way? (1942)
Is it a long way to heaven?
Do animals and birds go too?
Do we ride up the sky in a chariot?
Or fight and push our way through?
Do we see our world lying beneath us
As a pin among pins in a cushion?
Or do the clouds grasp and enclose us
And wrap us in wool and confusion?
Song (1943)
What a lovely day it is!
Sunshine all the way there is.
No more rain today, hooray,
The clouds are far away. What say -
A picnic on the hill?
Near the sky we'll sit and sing
Then rise with skylarks on the wing
With folded arms we'll dangle down
And spy out blossoms on the crowns
Of proud branched cherry trees.
London (1943)
London's the place to which I'm bound
Irrevocably by birth.
Its acrid soil must possess
Some irrepressible, inexpressible tenderness.
The letter-box, the park, the bus;
Daily checkered and coloured anew
Tied in us the London knot
Unconsciously as we grew.
Words (an epigram)
Bright light, dark night,
Words leave their mark
The word is the word of our God
The God of our Light
The Light of our dark.
Bathampton Rocks (1943)
There is a sunset in the West
And I would like to see it best
Bathampton Rocks from you.
I am in London today
With rows of houses in the way.
Sun who can see everywhere
Send my anguished thoughts through air
To the place where I would lie
Watching with the rocks and grass
Daylight into evening pass.
Desolation (1943)
Dirty faded walls and empty spaces,
Long limp flexes like spiders' traces,
Cracks in the floor and the doors wide open,
Dust in the sunbeam's golden cavern,
Stained newspapers with murders long forgotten
Waiting in the passage for the next blow through.
Four Lines
Little crawling nuisance
Attempting to surpass
The effervescent beauty
Of the bright green grass.
The Humourist (Feb 1944)
The great grey barge pulling up the Thames
Blotted by the morning mist sends
A rib of darkened water
Running outward to the shore
Rolling into ripples
As it feels the pebbles tickle,
Lifts a dabbling duckling
By its double spotted rear,
Drops it on the shingle
With a merry swishing cheer.
Dabble on duckling for no eyes but mine
Have seen a humble joke
Played by a scorner of the years
On a valiant adventurer
In the wilderness of time.
Man and dog (1944)
I saw a man with a smile
Cross a field and jump a stile.
His dog it trotted along behind
Intent on smells of various kind.
The man sat down upon a log
And lo! Beside him sat his dog
Thinking of dinner left at home
Of rats and the weekly doormat bone.
With hat on head and stick in hand
The man made bold enough to stand
So up jumped dog and followed him
By lamp-post tree and rubbish bin...
The man was thinking all the time
Thoughts unselfish and sublime
Which so pleased the powers above
They sent a note by Noah's dove.
They asked him would he like to come
And share the warmth of eternal sun,
To float on clouds tipped with fire
Instead of floundering in the mire.
Pleased at such appreciation
Yet filled with true humiliation
Said the man with trembling sob
"I fear I cannot leave my dog."
So dog and man were lifted up;
With happiness was filled the cup
Of man, but there among the good
The dog dreamed on of bones and food.
The Boatwoman (1944)
How few can know the morning
Before the sunshine turns to rain,
When the all too brilliant dawning
Proclaims a wet day again.
I've known the dark, the moonlight,
The cold, the sleet, the snow.
Watched with familiar insight
Night's cold calm flow.
February (1945)
Peering through the window
I see raindrops on the glass
Puckering dismal buildings
And the people as they pass
To a moving, jolting jingle
With the motion of the bus.
Can thoughts, hopes, ambitions
Individual, crystal clear
With electric redemption
Charge the foul and noisy air,
Rid enveloping dreariness,
The suffering and weariness
That settles this time of year?
The man behind, does he
Wonder more than I
About the one in front of him
Who is gazing at the sky?
As they sit, I also sit
In dirty greasy working kit
And yet my soul's afire with it!
(Written on board a No 10 bus going to Marble Arch from Limehouse 1945)
Spring (1946)
The wintering grass
Close to the ground
Closed in a mass of sleep
Grey and profound.
Hasten sweet spring,
Make the brook sing,
Shake from the trees
A million leaves.
Bring with you warm
Winds, heal the torn
Ravagings of winter,
Bring contentment,
Bring sweet pleasure.
The wintering grass
Close to the ground
Closed in a mass of sleep
Grey and profound.
Hasten sweet spring,
Make the brook sing,
Shake from the trees
A million leaves.
Bring with you warm
Winds, heal the torn
Ravagings of winter,
Bring contentment,
Bring sweet pleasure.
The Wanderer (1946)
Wander on wanderer
For no one else will care
If your feet plod on for ever
Or the brambles grab your hair.
The high moon shines
Its cold clear light
The chained dog whines
As you fade into the night.
They do not care, the cads!
Beside their glowing fire.
Make cheer, make merry, lads!
They cry and build it higher.
The new frost glitters
In the stark moonlight
The nest bird shivers
While about you swirls the night.
Flight (1946)
"What is the matter with you?"" she said,
"You seem so vexed, quite strange, perplexed.""
"Well, it's like this; 'twas in my head.
I knew it yesterday," he said
"But what was there, today is fled."
The sounds which fall upon the ear
From streets and tired people
Perhaps we were not meant to hear,
Nor even less recall, but it's fun
To catch the rhythms that
Aren't really there at all.
I Saw a Skylark (1947)
I saw a skylark freely fly
Cold and distant in the sky.
I saw it rise before the day
Still its beating wings and stay
Pinioned there; as might a dancer
Be the enchanter
Of a thousand souls.
I saw a skylark freely fly
Cold and distant in the sky.
I felt the depth of space behind
Its brittle wings, its tiny mind
I felt the curtain as a dancer might
Shallow backed and grey
While bathed in light
She bows and steps behind.
The Hedge Between (1947)
Fair grass glistening in the rain
At the pavement's edge
Boy child with a limber twig
Whisking at the hedge
Sending sprays of soft rain drops
Onto his bared foot.
Free his feet and soft as rain
Far away his mood.
Cows swaying in Long May grass,
The hedge between.
Close they are under elm trees
Heaving softly in the steam
Of their own hot presences
Nothing thinking, with vapid heavy heads.
The boy, only the boy is free,
The hedge between.
A Grey Day (1947)
I receive the colour from the day,
The light from the sky
Green from the grass
And from people who pass
Hurrying by, rhythm and song.
It takes me a long, long way
Into the mysterious beauty
Of even a grey day.
Early Morning Shopping (1947)
Snatches of song drifting unawares
On the greyness of the morning
Two dark quick fleeting feet
Slip away to join the echoes of the day
Shopping basket on her arm
Thoughts melted in a dream
Warm still from hours of sleep
Reality safely buried deep.
Rhapsody (Oct 1947)
To walk through the park;
To be blown by the wind;
To lean with one's want
In the years of one's prime
Are delights that exceed
The uttermost need
Of all one's desire.
Flowers in White Paper (1947)
Flowers she murmured softly down
As if to prove in disbelief
The sum of such a pleasure
As flowers in white paper.
Oh never flowers for grief
She murmured walking on.
Knitting (1948)
She thought he was unhappy
Because he had no hair.
She asked were he unhappy
And might she share his care.
But no, he said his sadness
Came from deep surprise
And was not really sadness
But pleasure in disguise.
Then while she sat, her knitting
idling on her knee,
She longed to see those strange things
That only he could see.
Hot Weather (1948)
Massing of people in queues,
Human blocks in buses
Stopping and starting
Again, and passing.
Crossings where desperate
Figures in fumes
Start like armies
Engaging and passing.
Red, amber, green
A leap and the street
Is cleared for a moment
Of pattering feet.
The Jury (1948)
It is the oddest strangest case
That has to serve the hungriness
Which life has to endure
They drag the weary from behind
Then let them lag and drown.
They screw the nervous round with wires
And bolster up the proud.
Then they shall require of you
A small amount of time
To twist you round and round and round
Then let you down and die.
The Path Between (1948)
Two hedges bind two gardens but between
Lies a sandy path bound by hedges green
The sun shines on the gardens, flowers grow
And tall men in straw hats the warm grass mow
In the shade of flowering apple trees
Mothers lie in striped deck chairs at ease
And watch their children roll down grassy banks.
All is gay with laughter and grass smeared pants
Two hedges bind two gardens but between
There lies a white sand path where I dared to stand
I took my fancy there and let it loose
To flaunt the peace that Sunday afternoon
I say its blindness written in the sand
I cursed the path which vanished in the gloom.
While the Rain is Falling Here (1948)
What, I wonder, does it mean
That it should be given to me
The power to feel the rain that falls
Far away on damp hillsides
Where the sundew soaks it up.
Silently it's falling there
Yet I am here.
There are places where gulls reel
About black rocks hung with weed
Where shallows are, where seas recede
Faster than galloping steeds.
Grey, across the shining sand
Silently it's falling there,
Yet, I am here!
Here rain drips from neighbouring trees
Which hide hot wet chimney pots,
Yet I, by some chance decree,
Am free to go; O charmer world!
Where-so-ere I would in thee.
Rain is falling everywhere
And I am here.
The Question (Jan 1949)
"I sought love;
Love, only love,
For love alone endures.
How can I live?
How can I love
When all is turned away?"
"Just you make your presence felt,
Just you say your say
Just you try to show you held
What love did come your way."
Warning (1950)
Leave that flower alone
Its petals are in fold
Tempt not its tenderness
To wrestle with the cold.
Leave that flower alone
Its blossom time will come
leave it to its own desires
It does not hide for fun.
Leave it, it will come again
When you have forgot quite
The flower which flowered incessantly
Both day and night.
The Recovery (1950)
I lived, l laughed, I ran again.
I felt, I cared, I cried,
I loved the place where I was born
Hope nestled at my side
I saw the children at their play
The grass turned green for me
The rain fell softly on my hair
I knew that I was free.
The Honey Bee (1950)
A bee was never to its own
Its charmer, its delight
But sought its lover open-eyed
In the bright sunlight.
Enchanted it would hover near
A flower with petals gay,
Fling its vagueness to the air
And give its heart away.
Illusion
Between strands of hair,
Ivy leaves and berries
The corner of a garden peeps.
Cold winds come in cornerwise
And tickle up the brain
To produce such thoughts as these:-
The orientation of gardens in a suburb;
Square, end to end with birds chipping
In slips of trees against a wall.
Beware, for in such as these men seek rest
And think themselves alone...
Christ and the Children (1950)
A child saw Christ, His coming in;
A child His going out.
They stood about His manger bed.
They played about Him dead.
Why should they heed that Christ was born,
Or care that He should die?
Men and women wept alone,
The children wondered why.
The Nightmare (1950)
Life embezzled pestilence
And freedom on the way
Leaving us to dwell upon
The tyranny of time,
Free to seek the nothingness
That laps about a man
Free to bind his actions
And to question the sublime
Free to fill with laughter
Any vacuum he may find.
Growing Up (1950)
No more nodding to each other every morning
Bound each to each in cogniscance.
But taking courage in the unknown
Withdraw into themselves
Become small hard and spiny,
Finding that core of hard reality
Which side by side, unknown to others,
Achieves great things in little worlds
Of far horizons.
Bird-call (1950)
Little bird I heard your call
One morning from my bed.
So sadly had my thoughts been turned
With heaviness that knew no end
I had forgotten what it meant
To share your dear sweet voiced content,
To find the world which I had mourned
Still a land enchanted
Little bird come call again, come call.
In Search of Wisdom (1950)
I spoke to the spirit of Israel,
So dear to me, I sought some recompense,
Some unconcerned joy with which to quell
Mine own undeserved pride, some unspoiled sense
To greet this child's first gaze, to stoop with me
And honour it. From Israel, her cities
Long blessed, envied, mirrored by the sea
I begged some kindness, some simplicities.
Three shepherds learned of bare hillsides came
With visions in their eyes, their faith in stars;
T'was greatness then I sought, but found none save
Her avarice, her pride, her hate, her wars.
Wise men from afar, wisdom, like your sun,
Enriches all it shines upon - You come.
Thoughts from October (1951)
Thirty years of London and to me belong
The commonplace, the dirt and all that's wrong
With London, where hopes, too close, too crowded
Fade beside her fallen women shrouded
By sooty walls. Oh! But while all seems night
Yet there remains an afterglow of light.
The sun her secret lover from afar
Sends amber noondays flooding at her door.
While to the chilly northern star she dips
Her towers and chimney pots, he smiles and tips
Into her lakes the gold of October
As if the best were not too good for her.
Two Aspects of London's Underground (1951)
Side by side and sideways pulled
Through the dark and dreadful air,
Souls behind their papers lulled
Lurk where last night's murders were.
Congested, wishful heroes climb
To dizzy heights and share success
With sporting favourites, on the line.
Lost souls in underground distress!
No traveller so renowned that he
Could mapless range a continent
To find a long lost hill or sea
Might not a hasty boast repent
While staring down a tunnel mouth,
"The train is coming from the North"
That this the North and that the South,
That this be East and that be West.
Count he his soul at tuppence worth
Better his ignorance confess
And own that he's directionless.
London (reflections) (1951)
In London's endless avenues of stone
Many million souls have made their home.
Harsh, corniced impediments, black with soot
Replace the verdant pastures they forsook.
Was the fabric of nature's gentle love
Thus to be shattered by so harsh a move?
Was it by chance that moss adorns a roof,
Or that no bridge can hold itself aloof
From its own quaking image in the stream,
That man's own likeness in his child be seen?
Men play with dreams as children with their toys.
And diligently turn problems into joys.
Ecstasy (1951)
Give, oh give me shelter sky
Let me lie under your canopy
Let me try to write
A simple verse of love
That makes no sacrifice
Save only that in full which happiness did will:
Which needs no explanation
But full lips in expectation
In the sunlight let me lie
Rosy limbs in ecstasy
With voices in my ear that cry
Let me love or I shall die.
A Triad (9 July 1952)
My darling left when the hay was cut
And the corn a rising yellow.
The sea was bright, the sun was out
But my heart was full of sorrow.
Sweet summer pray think not of me
For I've other things in mind
My sweet love's sailed away by sea
And I've remained behind.
As every thirsting flower
Does wilt for want of rain
So I shall weary for my lover
Till I find his lips again.
(Aug 1952)
Believe in me my dear one,
Though hopes I still withhold,
It's love that's thrashing all day long
Deep within my soul.
And your sweet love alone G-
Can my own love control.
I wish you knew my darling,
That it's to pass away the time
Which hangs upon our parting
I whittle at this rhyme.
So I may sit and ponder
Upon your love and mine.
(Aug 1952)
You know where and why and when
You need never fear.
But I can only grasp them
Through your mind dear.
When I am not with you
The world is bleak to me
I all faint and fearful
Despair till I find thee.
A Sonnet to G- (1953)
[Almost certainly to Ghulam Abbas]
Were good fortune to wander by my side
As gentle trees a river bank adorn;
Or could the ocean's deep and swelling tide
That rides the shelving beach to cool the out-worn
Sand, but lend me for a little space of time
The calm to rout the muddles of the mind;
God willed it, Fortune came and passed my way...
In this dry and dusty land few flowers grow
Grey beggars stare up sickly from the street
The sunshine keeps me looking at my feet.
But come it did, as things are wont to do;
My dearest one, it came from meeting you.