Edward Rhodes Poems

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Hollingbury Hill

To stand on Hollingbury hill
Where I can see the rolling sea
And there in silence to be still
To stand on Hollingbury hill

Sunday Night

On Sunday night, I didn’t hear
A single word you said, I fear
I must confess that I was wrong
I spoke to you through that last song

The Angry Man

The gentle smile which graced his placid face
Portrayed him as one blessed with true content
A reasonable man with few concerns
Such was the image that he chose to wear

The Story

Till now, I didn’t even know her name
Or in what line of work she worked, for she
Was not well known, till you made it your aim
To write about the crime and make us see

Background Noise

I notice that you’re still here
I can see your shadow near the bedroom light
Though I have tried so long to ignore you
As you drone on and on


I wonder why I am so prone to casual obsessions
To beauties that enthral my eyes and stain their bold impressions
Upon the fabric of my mind, and in nocturnal sessions
Are breathed into the darkness with the tears of my confessions

To A Fellow Passenger

Listen, my fellow passenger
You unknown person on the bus
Why are we making such a fuss
You ask? Well, listen and I’ll tell

Mid-Life Crisis

What madness took me that I at this stage
Of life, at this progression of the years
Should so speak to a woman half my age?
Was it the gnawing doubt of time, which fears

Please Let Me In

Please listen to me, let me in
I don't know where I should begin
Please don't subject me to your frown
Or leave me in my dressing gown


(Written with the help of innumerable anonymous people behind computers)

You keep sending me e-mails
I read them every day

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