There is so much to say about my biography. I studied at Bristol University, England to become a Civil Engineer in 1970. I completed my PhD in Coastal Engineering at Southampton University, England in 1981. Besides being an engineer, I am a poet and mathematician. I hope this is enough to create a picture of me! more »
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ian westwood Poems
Noble artery, Linking land and sea. How I marvel at your rise and fall,
Dusk Falling Now Upon This Land
Dusk laced in glistening winter mist, The sadness of an ageing hand, Once young and gently kissed.
On summer days in times long gone on tattered cycle I did tread those endless miles in search of love as does the tireless, timeless dove
Ablaze With Colour On This Winter Night
Ablaze with colour On this winter night, Thankful for all the talents upon my person bestowed,
The last violin
Should all be lost upon this precious earth, Of things gone by, now lacking any worth. The writing of a letter to a friend, The helping hand to guide the blinded eye,
THE NIGHT IS LONG
The night is long, The man is strong, The women weep, The children sleep.
WHITE AND BLACK
The night is black, The town is black, The falling snow at night Is white,
Dreaming of a new world
I’m dreaming of a world, Of unknown places, Vacant spaces, Unwon races.
White lines, blue signs, ghost light defines THE MOTORWAY,
A Lament For Syria
I can hear the children crying As each bomb pounds to the ground,
It's A Long Way
It's a long way I've come, It's a long way to fall, It's a long time now past, Since I heard the morning call.
WHERE CAN I GO TO NOW?
WHERE CAN I GO TO NOW? Where can I go to now To escape all this war and tyranny?
IF LOVE IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS
If love is not what it seems If love is not what it seems, And days grow dark on awakening, It is time for me to depart,
THE BRANCH BREAKS
A spontaneous short poem, entitled, THE BRANCH BREAKS: THE BRANCH BREAKS:
Comments about ian westwood
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Linking land and sea.
How I marvel at your rise and fall,
Engulfing sandy havens in your wake,
Exposing littered artefacts
At each dawn’s call,
Claiming your prowess at every stake.
Tapping twisting rivers far and wide,
How graceful your gliding waters,
Shifting ever seawards,
Turning into brine,
At every turn of tide.
Scouring with your currents
Swirling with your turbulence
Into billowing plumes.
Solitary grains conveyed
To distant lands,