The flight into Egypt

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The flight into Egypt

Behind them that beast of prey, that Herod,

Was still glaring doom from his trees of thorn,

Eyes bulging like a fox.

And so, by night, Joseph squired their secret way,

Prayed the morning kind,

Prayed empty the brigand-haunted roads.

Each day they made another cold remove,

With the infant swaddled close,

And their way marked by quiet nurseries of straw.

Joseph kept close his thoughts, measured each horizon,

Always with the rumour of dark hoofbeats

Thrumming in his mind.

And so they came into the morning of Egypt,

Welcomed, it seemed, into the green deportment of spring

With the scent of orange blossoms

And the air like cool linens about them;

And there at last,

Shining wondrously from the infant's face

A new light grew, resplendent in small beginning.

— Grant Fraser


Crushed pineapple
Mixed fruit
Stir with strength
Kitchen angel 
Stir with love
Your red curls
Unfurl against 
Your cheek
Your white skin
As white as the milk
You pour into the pale, yellow bowl
Mixed spices
A pinch of salt 
Renaissance angel
Or a painting by Vermeer
The milkmaid
You are a Dutch masterpiece
Self-raising flour
Plain flour
Two beaten eggs
Stir on, kitchen angel
Stir with love
The Christmas cake
Echo your mother
Your grandmother
Down the dark
The bright
Many years
The smell
The sound
The sight
The recipe
Of Christmas.
— Anne Ramsay
these old domestic patterns
a summer of water
pumped through the earth
to keep the garden alive 
& the lawn green
as children once danced a ballet 
of sunburn under the fall
from sprinklers 
& later filled the bath
to the brim & swam 
the length Christmas
& back again 
turning like seals
end to end to end
— Rory Harris   



Grant FraserGrant Fraser is a lawyer, poet and filmmaker.

Anne RamsayAnne Ramsay is a teacher who is passionate about student learning.

Rory HarrisRory Harris teaches at CBC Wakefield Street, South Australia.

Topic tags: poetry, Grant Fraser, Rory Harris, Anne Ramsay



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Existing comments

Such beautifully evocative and, dare I say , poetic language, Mr Fraser. A genuine Christmas cracker!
john frawley | 15 December 2015


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