The Crocodile Bird

These pieces are offered as works composed over many years, by a writer who shares the view of the late, brilliant Hilary Corke, that ones style has shown progression if not a progress. At least they are published, collected from forgotten files, and as Corke so aptly phrased it, candidates for survival rather than lurking in sad typescript awaiting public birth. Certainly they are creations set in time and it is over time that they will be remembered or forgotten, since time is the only judge to render a final verdict. Since a poem is rarely finished to the full satisfaction of its author, it reaches a stage where it is merely abandoned. Hopefully it has found completion to the extent, so properly defined by Robert Frost, where the emotion has found its thought and the thought has found the words. JET