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Thomas Golding Poems
A WORD ABOUT LOVE
How light the space when you're all near A flight of swans across an evening sky Who wheel and turn with grace before descent To mirrored lakes for lovers to admire.
The Fashion Show
THE FASHION SHOW To conclude our show we leave you with a dream For every woman, place and time
I see her face in strangers as they pass A silhouette, a turn of hand Momentarily a pause confusing time Whilst hope is captured yet again
Love Poem 2
LOVE POEM 2 I saw your portrait in the pool Where autumn blossoms float
First Love First Pain
She curls on the couch Tears stain the cushion streak down her cheeks Wide open window
In Praise Of Modern Women
IN PRAISE OF MODERN WOMEN “There is truth in wine, ” claimed the Romans Those ancient imbibers should have known better
The Timorous Wordsmith
If I sing aloud in the world Will my song be heard? To the tone deaf all songs are flat; If I never raise my voice
A Bushclad Surprise
Singing water running swiftly Flowing downward to the valley Spraying off intrusive stone Cataract plunging to the bottom
Looking Back At My Mother
i Mother, Mother shining bright how did you stand the terrors of the night pressed down to fit a symmetry.
Under The Singing Wire
How unsightly by day Those old telephone lines Back in the nineteen forties Erratic moirés of copper
Images of dew shaken down by wind Marvel of engineering line and brace The builder crouches to defend As my form looms gigantic
Mirror mirror on the wall Who is least fit of all? Watch that muscle straining by Chasing rainbows in the sky
An extract from a poem written for my grandchildren to Brahms Lullaby Sleep; little mice sleep Mother will watch over you
This House Is Not A Home
Policemen kindly stay away Unless of course you wish to pay. Hey ho mother runs a knocking shop.
Comments about Thomas Golding
(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)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
A WORD ABOUT LOVE
How light the space when you're all near
A flight of swans across an evening sky
Who wheel and turn with grace before descent
To mirrored lakes for lovers to admire.
If you loved yourselves as lovely as you are
Then pursuit of love would never cause you pain
Which I share when the world turns away
Unable at times to say what I might feel.
Recall the words of Propertius
'Love could recall beauty where none was.'
When you took up these lowly creatures
Reason called you were still embracing frogs.
Know I love you all in my own way
Even when you ...