Philip Dodd Poems

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,
...

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,
...

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,
...

Still the dawn,
still the dew,
still the moments
dwindling down to few.
...

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.
...

Inaccessible pinnacles,
dark mountain summits,
like cracked crowns,
axe hewn, broken helmets,
...

The wren on the farthing coin I study.
Four of them made a penny.
Hard to leave my chair by the fire
this winter night, I think of old money.
...

White crane migrate
from one land of lakes to another,
long lane takes you over any border,
hold in your heart
...