Today I thought I’d discovered a lost poem of Katharine Susannah Prichard’s, a sensual, slightly shocking poem which could be one of the great scoops of my biography. It’s called “Lips of My Love,” and it was mentioned in a 1914 Australian newspaper as having being published in English Review. This is the year before she won the Hodder and Stoughton Novel Competition and met her future husband, Hugo. It’s a sensual and frank poem about sexual enthrallment from a time Katharine was, by the vague account in her autobiography, still involved with the “Preux Chevalier,” a much-older journalist with three daughters who’d romanced her in Paris in 1908 and became increasingly possessive, threatening to kill himself if she ever married. Continue reading →