Thief In The Night

Night Small ( D H Lawrence)
- Garry Shead

Last night a thief came to me

And struck at me with something dark.
I cried, but no one could hear me,
  I lay dumb and stark.

When I awoke this morning
  I could find no trace;
Perhaps ’twas a dream of warning,
  For I’ve lost my peace.

- D H Lawrence

Disappointing DH

I had not read D H Lawrence for over 30 years and I recently chose to read his last published work, "The Virgin and the Gypsy" which was discovered in France after his death, as a part of my reading program for the year. For the last thirty years I have consistently read at least 50 books throughout the year, averaging one per week and aiming for the grand 52 whenever possible. So this is number 15 for the year (a novella - chosen in part because of its brevity) and it has all the classic Lawrence themes - uncivilised civilisation, social prejudice, family relationships. Unfortunately it lacks the polish and rigorous editing that Lawrence put his published works through but it does have some nicely drawn characters and he has caught the nuances and language of teenage girls well. I found myself struggling to be sympathetic or involved with anyone in the story. Lawrence was one of my favourite authors in my college days and his poetry in particular influenced me with his wonderful descriptive turns of phrase. But if you're looking for a Lawrence, head to Sons and Lovers or Women in Love and leave The Virgin and The Gypsy parked on the shelf.

 And now its on to a bit of a romp and a laugh or three with the inimitable Joe R Lansdale and Flaming London .

Burn brightly, Pete

Mystic Blue

Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping, Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping To sight, revealing a secret, numberless secrets keeping. Sometimes the darkness trapped within a wheel Runs into speed like a dream, the blue of the steel Showing the rocking darkness now a-reel. And out of the invisible, streams of bright blue drops Rain from the showery heavens, and bright blue crops Surge from the under-dark to their ladder-tops. And all the manifold blue and joyous eyes, The rainbow arching over in the skies, New sparks of wonder opening in surprise. All these pure things come foam and spray of the sea Of Darkness abundant, which shaken mysteriously, Breaks into dazzle of living, as dolphins that leap from the sea Of midnight shake it to fire, so the secret of death we see.

- D H Lawrence (1916)