Biography of Brian Swaine
I was born in Antigonish, Nova Scotia, Canada on October 29th,1962, one of a set of fraternal twins. I was raised and educated in Canso, Nova Scotia. I received my diploma in Nuclear Medicine Technology at the Victoria General Hospital, Halifax, N.S. in June of 1983. I spent most of the next 19 years in St. John's, Newfoundland before moving to the Siouxland area in 2002. I've been writing poetry since the age of twelve (although some of that earlier work lacks structure) but I became really intrigued when I was introduced to the Shakespearean sonnet in seventh grade, hence most of my poems are in that format. I only write when I'm inspired so most of my work is about my faith those closest to me.
Brian Swaine's Works:
My poem, 'The River' is published in print in 'Reflections by Moonlight', Pictorial Press,1995 on page 380.
Brian Swaine Poems
Shakespeare was a playwright of great ability, And, although very few of us know it, That besides being a great writer of tragedy, Shakespeare was a notable poet.
Two souls adrift on a sea of emptiness; Like two ships in search of that long-lost horizon. Neither one knowing if their course leads east or west; Neither one knowing where they’ll end or where they’d begun.
Change can mean a loss or change can mean a gain; Change can give us joy or change can cause us pain. Change can bring glory or change can point blame; Change can give us wisdom or change can bring us shame.
Love is patient; it is a sea of tranquility with waters so calm. Love is kind; its tenderness and goodness is a haven so warm.
The Greatest Gift
What is the greatest gift to give this Christmas? What is the greatest gift we can ever receive? What treasure is there that totally fulfills us? What riches could ever satisfy our need?
Rainbow In The End
The sun may not always shine and the flowers not always bloom; And the dark clouds of sorrow and despair may fill your life with gloom. There may be days when it gets so hot, you seek cover in the shade; And there will be times when the storms of life will rain on your parade.
Watching from afar, we marvel at the storm; Knowing where we are, it can do us no harm. The pounding rain and the lightning's hand Are far, far away in another's land.
Our lives are mere grains of sand in the hour glass of time, Our bodies just vessels in which we travel. If we close our eyes and pray, true meaning we will find, And the mysteries of life all begin to unravel.
The sun shines brightly down on me; The birds sing cheerfully in the trees. The grass is green, the flowers in bloom; Their fragrance surrounds me like a sweet perfume.
A Lonely Warrior
I'm a lonely warrior on an empty battlefield; My head, it aches, my body grows numb. But with copious courage, I raise strength, sword and shield, To face the cold foe now that the battle's begun.
Winding down its narrow, rugged gorge, The River roars its thunderous refrain; And, as it is its destiny to forge, It draws even more power from the rain.
A Lonely Warrior
I'm a lonely warrior on an empty battlefield;
My head, it aches, my body grows numb.
But with copious courage, I raise strength, sword and shield,
To face the cold foe now that the battle's begun.
My weary eyes, they focus on an enemy unseen;
My hand, it grips the weapon I so bravely wield.
Battle on, I must, to destroy the enemy;
And rest, I cannot, lest the beast he be felled.
With no lieutenant to lead me, no bright light to guide me,