Remembrance Sunday 2018

This is all Saints Church in High Wycombe, the scene for the annual Remembrance Day march and wreath laying ceremony.  There is something about the place,  about the day and about the people that stirs the creative juices.  By simply observing, by simply listening, by simply being quiet and introspective, thoughts flow out.

The previous post ' A Minute's Silence' (see below) was written on the same day at this service three years ago.

If I am lucky, I quickly capture them on paper, make a few adjustments and send them out.  Apologies to the non linguists among us; the second poem 'Amy'  is written in Spanish as the encounter with her father as his daughter played with the 'fallen leaves' while other listened to the 'live' service   - he was Spanish.  It just felt right to pen it in his language.





'Amy'

Amy; no te sientas mientras los demás están parados

Amy; no te cojas las hojas caídas mientras las almas han sido llevadas

Amy; no te pongas las hojas por el fondo del árbol mientras entregamos las coronas por la cruz

A Minute's Silence

High Wycombe, 8th November 2015

 

  

A Minute's Silence

Stand here a while and I'll tell you
If the guttering's clogged up with grass
Or if a shower of pigeons passed
While those two still necking on the ridge

The Hollow Tree

There is a tree in my memory

Hollowed out of mollusced softness

Black and burnt she felt like a cloak

Where one could hide from others eyes

Seek shelter where no one spoke

The fox is sleeping

At the side of the road the fox lies sleeping
In the heart of farmland and homeland
Stretched out as if at ease
Legs obediently paired
Tailed tucked in, snout out in relief

Harvest Home

We laid our back against the stack
Wiped sweat and hayseeds from our brow
Caps cocked to shield the sun
Thirst slain in the billy-can

When you lose someone

For Deirdre

Faye said
How beautiful, from a story-teller who paints with words =). 

Barbara said

" I know Deirdre will love it.  She has just been widowed and I know your book will bring her much joy.She is such a lovely soul.  They came to Dublin from NI many years ago due to the economics there, and started again from nothing, raising the children in the south.   Losing Eddie has been a hard blow for her and I know your poems will lift her."

Deirdre said

" What a lovely surprise I got this morning.  Thank you!!  My house is full of family at the moment, a gathering for a family wedding up in Donegal.  I want to sit down and really read your lovely evocative book.  From a quick perusal i was able to get a wonderful sense of place, the sights and sounds, I could even feel the tickle of the straw!! "

November Open Mic night ARTS4EVERY1

Thanks to Simon Falconer