Patrick Ladbrooke Poems
- The Bond I remember nights of roaring surf, The long rods ...
- The Kissing Gate There is a five bar gate, white, by a ...
- Sailing On the trailing edge of winter, pale light led me To...
- Abbey Ruin (St Benets Abbey, N... Tall the abbey tower, ...
- Rush Hour Ahead, in rain, the morning surges With brake ...
- Colours Of Love, Passing No black is blacker than the darkest...
- A Navy Man A stranger he will be The sailor home from sea, ...
I began to discover literature, including poetry just 3 years ago at the age of 57, after spending my whole career as a chemist. I have written some short stories and poems since, some of which have been published, but only in places that will publish anything. It's a hobby really (he says, wishing he could make a success of it!) .
Thanks for dropping by,
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Comments about Patrick Ladbrooke
I remember nights of roaring surf,
The long rods nodding with the pull,
Watching in the hiss and glare of pressure lamps,
Waiting with my father, for the fish to run.
And run they did, made lines sing in the wind,
Smooth muscled silver-green flanked cod,
Gorged plump on shrimp shoaled in the scour.
We cradled them from breaker’s undertow,
Our sea soaked clothes raw in the cold of night,
To marvel as they glistened on the sand.
Next day, served on our plates,
They tasted like they’d swum from seas of heaven.
But time has stolen him away from ...