Tag Archives: poem

The 1951 Rolling Review Show … (Midweek Melody) # 104

The 1951 Rolling Review Show … (Midweek Melody) # 104

Welcome to the 1951 Rolling Review Show which twice weekly features pieces of music I have enjoyed at some time in my life. I hope you enjoy them as well. Let me know if you do.

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My Sunday Poem … # 19

My Sunday Poem … # 19

Dingle, Tingle and Shingle

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my sunday poem … # 17

my sunday poem … # 17

Hello. You find me in reflective mood today. The seasons are gently slipping by – just as they surely must. Life is a wonderful gift and we must never waste a moment.

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I am reminded of some lines from To His Coy Mistress by the 17th century metaphysical poet Andrew Marvell.

Had we but world enough, and time …
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingéd chariot hurrying near;

I wrote Summer Song quite recently. It concerns the transient nature of life. Carpe diem and all that. It is also about my deep-rooted love of literature and writing. When I was young I could draw upon the creative energy, joy and crazy hope that the world constantly offered. It all seemed to be achieved with comparatively little effort. Now I find myself drawing deeply from the well of memory and experience. Hope is an ever-present flame and joy is the reality of being here with the people and things that I love.

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My Sunday Poem … # 14

My Sunday Poem … # 14

This is a poem I wrote many years ago when I was living in the wilds of north Norfolk. I’d joined a small group of mostly well established local authors and artists. Most of them could quite literally write (and drink) me under the table. Occasionally I came up with something half decent. 

To Spring 

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Spring
Sweet lady of the flowers
Waiting on the golden gates of Summer
Queen that lends thy beauty to the earth
Out of Winter’s bleak and lowly rags you came
A child of the mist and cold
And though each being in time created
Calls thee by a different name
They love thee with a single knowing Soul.

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My Sunday Poem … # 13

My Sunday Poem … # 13

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I wrote this week’s offering way back in the summer of 1969. I was all of 17 and quite heavily into Arthurian literature at the time. I’d been hitch-hiking in Devon and Cornwall with my pal Charlie Parker. One of the places we visited was the ruins of Tintagel Castle in Cornwall which had long been linked to the legend of King Arthur. Continue reading

my sunday poem … # 10

my sunday poem … # 10

Today’s poem is called The Waiting-Bell. I wrote it during a period when I was quite heavily into the work of poets such as John Donne and Gerard Manley Hopkins. I so admired their use of  imagery.

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The waiting-bell

 in the garden at dawn
tremoring trance-like forms
lie hidden in the early mist
cold-cast in a wintery spell
silence hangs heavy as a waiting-bell

one
piercing shaft of light
and life begins again
like a shattering glass

spider’s web quivering
the birds’ glad song
and beat of wings

and when I think of you
where the pain of loss first fell
my heart hangs heavy as a waiting-bell

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my sunday poem … # 8

my sunday poem … # 8

This poem was inspired through many things. Myths & legends of old. Pop culture. Art. Being young and foolish. All those things and more.

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the lady & the swan

velvet jewel of twilight
crimson lake of dawn
shimmer in the waters
a silver swan is born

silent wings of silver
o’er the waters cold
far beyond the west wind
there lies a sea of gold

lady of the morning
hair of golden sun
lady of the blue dawn
tears that sadly run

eyes that watch the water
rippling in jest
softly moving breezes
thoughts that feel no rest

ruby red the sunglow
crystal wings that fly
palace of the white swan
glimmering on high

lady in the moonshine
silent in her song
dreams of golden gardens
visions made of stone

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