A collection of John's poems was gathered together by Mary Levinson, and 300 copies were privately printed in 1984.  A selection of these will be added to the website.

 

Cambridge

 

With that ritual pull of the light

On the flat roof top

With the slip gravel

And the night all ever

Buzz of extracting fans

Was a view of our red house

And fields and rich-red Cambridge,

Warm ever all over

Like a blanket or a bun.

 

Well Levinson, I said, asking

The high-light, what shall I

Do in this lap-laugh called life?

Between waking and working and sleep

There is sometimes a sudden moment

When one could get something right.

So much the light promises, open

And perceived before touching

Woth the illness of beauty,

And sending the hoper

All back to sleep.