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Keeper of the Light


Benjamin
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From my glorious pulpit I chase the day,

where black-head gulls and falcons

fly silver winged-- high on the buoyant wind.

And far below, the little town

exudes a pastel-coloured pride

of silent individuality.

 

The smells of burnt peat and salt air commingle

in grey knit souls, that twist up

from cottages to heaven. And fishers

on the quay, mend nets to mark time.

Eager for the bobbing tide

when smacks and hookers strain to cross the bar.

 

Looking out towards the rolling western foam

that thrashes volcanic rocks;

I see the light and dark of Heaven's will.

Abundance and uncertainty...

Life and Death, both singing tunes

and made melodious by their distance.

 

Old words that "men must work and women must weep,"

fall hard upon precious days.

For happiness is the hunter's return

and joyful music will be heard:

fiddles, whiskey and good cheer,

the celebrations of a simple life.

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David W. Parsley

Looking out towards the rolling western foam

that thrashes volcanic rocks;

I see the light and dark of Heaven's will.

Abundance and uncertainty...

Life and Death, both singing tunes

and made melodious by their distance.

Geoff, the whole thing is fraught with Dickensesque atmosphere and imagery that veers almost to Blake or even Poe. But this stanza really brings the whallop.

 

Nice!

- Dave

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Thanks for looking in Dave. Didn't intend to be quite so elaborate, just a reflection of some of the things absorbed over a great many years. The rugged south west coast of Ireland played it's part.

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Beautiful, reflective mood piece. Cold and rocky shores have a unique charm. Must be much like the many shores of Maine. Tides are in our DNA.

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Beautiful! Agreed on tides and Dickensesque! ;-) A paen to the nostalgia of a simple life, with its harsh truths that remain the 'same' despite the veneer of modernity...

 

Well done,

 

Juris

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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I, too, see the rocky coasts of Ireland, Maine, Canada's maritime provinces, and even Iceland/Greenland in this poem. Thank you for this. I enjoyed the mood multiple times when you posted it; it moved me in "solstice/Christmas" kind of way.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Good title B. Those who have time to reflect, close to that edge of life and death, gazing into the mystery. I thought I heard a note of envy, in the voice, for that simple life.

 

enjoyed

 

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I fell under the attraction of this poem immediately, so much so that my fingers began itching to tinker with it! Naturally, I shall not. Ah, dear, but it's that good ... a quietly bubbling, fragrant stew simmering on the back hearth as our minds and hearts go dribbling.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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