MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!
Tales of The Swan-Dyke
March – July, 2020 – CV-19
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TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 9
To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months
#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-
stepheneede689@btinternet.com
Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.
Many thanks ~ edenbray
TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting part 9 : FRAGILITIES MINE …
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Foreward to the Publication
In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.
Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.
This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.
Thanks for listening edenbray 06.07.2020
Fragilities Mine
☘︎ ☘︎ ☘︎
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fragility …
What is a life among so many?
the iron wheels of Dalwinni
the cold currency of commerce
where there is no time for verse
only the sharp teeth of the crocodile – bared
exposed to the rank and file
caught like brown rabbits in a snare
with an occasional bloody hare
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fragility
Amid the final dance of death
appeared through angels breath
the delicacy of natures fronds
serve well as angel wands
the wind blew, away they flew
the wind that made me strong
a soldier boy his tunic ruddy
furled his hopes and diamonds bloody
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fragility
We ran to meet the fullest moon
to greet a morbid, sorbet sun
sing the stars our saddest, acrid tune
attest the quarantine of mercy
sincerity feeds upon the leanest souls
crows stand both alone and holy
the warmth that only others feel
resting sound in fields of plenty
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fragility
A tattered, outgrown, tainted gown
patched, matched Saint Crispin’s frown
atrophy and disdain like parched earth
applaud the entrance of dew-drop mirth
Anthony salutes the birth, now worthy sleeps
while Dante’s soul inestimably weeps
the bridge of sighs so tender a culvert
salver for this evening’s pater noster
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fragility
Bees collect their pollen in priestly vests
duty buttoned daily to their blackened chests
faithful volunteers for an Oxfam-army
rent collectors for a parish swarmy
while cavaliers and roundheads storm the gates
exiles and immigrants both Lindisfarne holy
assemble on the tarmac to learn their fates
soldiers of fortune, angels of mercy – all must wait
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fragility
Once more for England, once more for Harold
once more for Michael at the beryl gate
candescent and lonely,
golden hooves shod for a Royale pony
we drank sailors rum, bit Samson’s loyal thumb
lay down to a Dylan muse, till the words ran dry
just the tune played on in our heads by the by
something sweet that made our mother cry!
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fragility
O’ the colonials reduced in the sieve
blended from where once woad-men lived
not pioneers, engineers, men of vision
not mix-raced, mixed persons, minds of decision
only guilty amalgams who tortured braves
evil persons who once profited from slaves
better for them if they’d drowned in the waves
stand up then and wave goodbye to England!
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edenbray8today
ref.13072020