The Spike or Victoria University College Review 1948
I should have met you at the outskirts
Of your populous childhood, emerging
With your blonde face exquisite with wonder
Out of the golden shadows that used
To romp and whisper like silk about you,
And invite you into their marvellous
Intrigues. O love, I should have seen you then,
Sleek head golden with wonder, stepping
Like Venus out of the rustling folds
Of your childhood. Not now. Not now.
Now you are constantly
Foolish; constantly smiling in drink.
The freshness has worn (someone has taken
The sun!) The mask slips away from the face
At a ridiculous angle when you least
Expect it to; and the face underneath
Is waxen with blown-out bulbs for eyes.