Biography of Philip Dodd
Philip Dodd lives in Liverpool, England, has a degree in English literature from Newcastle University, and has been writing songs, stories and poems since he was twelve. He is the author of three books, Angel War, published in April,2013, Klubbe the Turkle and the Golden Star Coracle, published in March,2015, and Still the Dawn: Poems and Ballads, published in October,2015. He has had poems published in his local newspaper, the Liverpool Echo, The Dawntreader, a quarterly poetry magazine, published by Indigo Dreams Publishing, and Mallorn, the Journal of the Tolkien Society. One of his poems, The Redundancy of Gods, was published in Greek Fire, an anthology of poems, inspired by Greek mythology, which was published in June,2015 by Lost Tower Publications.
Philip Dodd's Works:
Klubbe the Turkle and the Golden Star Coracle
Still the Dawn: Poems and Ballads
Philip Dodd Poems
Isle Of Apples
The Round Table is broken, to divide this green island, Britain. Now I must obey the last words of Merlyn. Take Excalibur, the sword of Arthur,
Lines On The Four Hundredth Anniversary ...
Four hundred years, that is one hundred years less than half a thousand, that is a long time to be absent from the stage, a long time for your plays to go on and have no equal,
No Shelter For A Sparrow
Worst is when you want to cry when there is no reason. It's just a summer passing by, like any other season.
Panther black jungle night. Monkeys screech, parrots squawk in fright. Muddy brown river,
I strayed into long ago, somewhere in the east, yes, the Orient. Time moved slow,
Inaccessible pinnacles, dark mountain summits, like cracked crowns, axe hewn, broken helmets,
Lullaby For Bethlehem
I was told I took part in a war, to decide which side I fought for. I laid aside whatever armour I wore, to be a spirit naked and pure.
Still The Dawn
Still the dawn, still the dew, still the moments dwindling down to few.
Ibis. He loved the word, the bird even more. Summer lay on the river, he stood on the shore.
The Memories You Save
Faces of strangers life allows me to see, but I know it is the same for so many. It seems that is how it must be. And I know I must not complain,
Her Piano Tune
She played her love in a minor key, to say it was deep, not sad. Her piano found her melody, the best tune she ever had.
Listen. Thunder clouds, herds of black bison stampede silent space. Wait. Relief of rain.
Windmill And Rainbow
Windmill and rainbow, noon light and shadow, canal and meadow, busy stone worker,
Searching For The Sangreal
Farewell, my lord, King Arthur, this may be my last farewell. I go on the quest you gave us, I go searching for the Sangreal.
Windmill And Rainbow
Windmill and rainbow,
noon light and shadow,
canal and meadow,
busy stone worker,
mirror on water,
brush stroked by Turner.
Another world lensed,
I cannot enter,
only gaze on from outside,