Vernon Scannell


Vernon Scannell Poems

1. The Loving Game 9/8/2015
2. Nettles 1/13/2018
3. Schoolroom On A Wet Afternoon 1/13/2018
4. Silver Wedding 1/13/2018
5. They Did Not Expect This 1/13/2018
6. Where Shall We Go? 1/13/2018
7. Wife Killer 1/13/2018
8. Tightrope Walker 1/17/2018
9. My Three Hoboes 1/17/2018
10. The Great War 1/17/2018
11. Formal Problem 1/17/2018
12. An Old Lament Renewed 1/17/2018
13. Killing Flies 1/17/2018
14. Epithets of War—I: August 1914 1/17/2018
15. My Pen Has Ink Enough 1/17/2018
16. The Telephone Number 1/17/2018
17. The Men Who Wear My Clothes 1/13/2018
18. The Terrible Abstractions 1/13/2018
19. The Old Books 1/17/2018
20. Wife Killer 1/13/2003
21. Juan In Middle Age 1/13/2003
22. Makers And Creatures 1/13/2003
23. The Terrible Abstractions 1/13/2003
24. A City Remembered 1/13/2003
25. Silver Wedding 1/13/2003
26. Death In The Lounge Bar 1/13/2003
27. Where Shall We Go? 1/13/2003
28. Lesson In Grammar 1/13/2003
29. The Men Who Wear My Clothes 1/13/2003
30. They Did Not Expect This 1/13/2003
31. Ageing Schoolmaster 1/13/2003
32. Schoolroom On A Wet Afternoon 1/13/2003
33. Incendiary 1/13/2003
34. A Case Of Murder 1/13/2003
35. Nettles 1/13/2003

Comments about Vernon Scannell

  • Victoria Vyvyan (6/16/2018 8:18:00 AM)

    Please add The Last Human

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  • Malcolm Wakeman Malcolm Wakeman (4/20/2014 12:50:00 AM)

    'Nettles ' An original and perceptive work, finding the philosophical in the prosaic. What father would not have cut down the nettles and not reflected on his son's future.

  • Betsy Hosegood (10/21/2013 5:12:00 AM)

    Please add A Day on the River, which is fabulous.

Best Poem of Vernon Scannell

Nettles

My son aged three fell in the nettle bed.
'Bed' seemed a curious name for those green spears,
That regiment of spite behind the shed:
It was no place for rest. With sobs and tears
The boy came seeking comfort and I saw
White blisters beaded on his tender skin.
We soothed him till his pain was not so raw.
At last he offered us a watery grin,
And then I took my billhook, honed the blade
And went outside and slashed in fury with it
Till not a nettle in that fierce parade
Stood upright any more. And then I lit
A funeral pyre to burn the fallen dead,
But in ...

Read the full of Nettles

Silver Wedding

Silver Wedding

The party is over and I sit among
The flotsam that its passing leaves,
The dirty glasses and fag-ends:
Outside, a black wind grieves.

Two decades and a half of marriage;
It does not really seem as long,

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