here ItOpens - Poems by Poet starting with F
John Meade Falkner
 After TrinityWe have done with dogma and divinity
 ArabiaWho are these from the strange, ineffable places
F S Flint
 Eau-ForteOn black bare trees a stale cream moon
Gilbert Frankau
 Gun TeamsTheir rugs are sodden, their heads are down, their tales are turned to the storm
Roy Fuller
 The ImageA spider in the bath. The image noted:
 The DayAt the time it seemed unimportant: he was lying
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