Poetry

Writing Poetry became quite a big thing in my life in 2011. I started just after I retired from the Fire and Rescue Service in 2010 but the poetry took off this year. I find writing poetry is therapeutic. Alas I have written too much poetry to publish on this page, but from time to time, I shall upload some the poems that I have written.

Please note that in all instances the copyright of any poem that appears in this Blog is retained and a poem should not be copied or published in any form whatsoever without my written permission. I assert my right to be identified as the author of the following work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.


April Jones

Thursday 11 October and it’s a 0730 start in the Gym ready to mooch around town and my favourite coffee shop with the intention of writing a poem about April Jones and my faith in that April will be found.  Relaxing and writing poetry assists with my mental health, and I sit with my skinny flat white and some toast and begin to pen a 14 line stanza in Italian form ABBAABAACDECDE.  The intention is for five feet per line:

FAITH

Little April our small pink ribbon girl

Taken from us when we least expected

Our broken hearts fill with fear and dread

Gone just as dusk descended in a swirl

Little April our pink ribbon girl

Each person went to assemble to be led

Others gather to ensure they are fed

Looking in a wilderness for one pearl

People are forged by purpose as one

Never losing faith they toil and search on

Intent to bring April back to her home

Prayer or candle a lantern for some

Many gather that first Sunday for song

While many stay out and continue to roam

Roger Bennett
October 2012, Penrhyncoch, Wales

The Olympic Games held in Munich in 1972

REMEMBER US
 
O remember us, the fallen,
we who chose Olympia, not death.
Speak out loud for others to hear,
then fall silent in memory.
 
Please remember us Olympians,

we who exhaled our final breath.
Call out to those who will not hear,
seeking silence in memory.
 
Remember the Olympic loss,
shout loud to help those who are deaf.
Strive to reach those who are not near,
and ask for silent memory.
 
O remember us the fallen,
for us there is no laurel wreath.
Just a simple cross that's clear,
that all we ask is memory. 

Roger Bennett
July 2012, Penrhyncoch, Wales

The astonishing golfing win by McIlroy in the USA 


G-Mac

Who is this McIlroy,
A young son of Ulster,
Age only twenty two,
With a very long swing,
To enhance his golf game.

You know, the one that won,
The U.S. Open that time,
This Ulsterman Rory,
Whose putting did bring,
A top Major to name.

Yes, I know the one,
Scoring minus sixteen,
Over those four long days,
Again did Ireland win,
Golf shall not be the same.

From Holywood this Champion,
Youngest since twenty three,
Two six and eight, his run,
Ball flying like a wing,
Maryland Rory did tame.

Roger Bennett, June 2011



My frustration at not being able to secure tickets for the Olympic Games held in London in 2012 The 2012 Olympics could have just as easily have been held on any Continent in the World for the good that it did for me, by hosting them in the United Kingdom.  We managed two tickets to boxing and these were gifted to one of my daughters because she failed to get any tickets.  I wanted to go to see the boxing, but it was pretty sad seeing my wife and daughters all fail to get tickets so the two that I had were handed over.  I'm pretty miffed about what I see as mishandling, that in the main, stopped the person in the street enjoying what by right should have been theirs to enjoy.  I suspect that it was better than this back in 1948.  To make matters worse (at the time of writing) no one has had the courtesy to hold a silence of one minute as mark of respect on the 40th Anniversary of the Israeli athletes that were killed in Munich.  It's as if we have lost our way, lost sight of the 'Olympic ideal', and lost sight of what really should matter, as we instead strive for greater commercialism and improved economy instead of basic care, understanding, and support.


Olympics

My Olympic money was here,
But now it’s gone,
For what and when I don’t know,
But for others there is none.

Oh London 2012,
You confused me with your ruse,
Not to sell the tickets,
Even to your muse.

I thought it was a celebration,
Chance to see the best,
Let’s hope there’s no black market,
But bidding like the rest.

Track, field or equestrian,
The system doesn’t say
My mind was blank,
But yet you made me pay.

How I longed to be there for you,
At this feast of sport,
But now watching television,
I shan’t be your cohort.

Roger Bennett, 01 June 2011



A love poem for St Valentine's Day 2011


FALLEN

I fell,
When I first set eyes upon You.
I fell again,
When we were Married.

The fallen are loved,
The loved have Fallen,
A descent into happiness,
A fall worthy of Life.

All that is left,
Is for me to provide a Token,
A memory,
Of when I Fell.

Roger Bennett, February 2011



The astonishing win by the Welsh rugby team in the last game of the 2013 Championship



CYMRU AM BYTH

"Thirty, three" said he,
"Nah, it couldn't be" said me,
"Surely not thirty, three?"
As that would be,
Too great a victory.

"Yes, it's true!" Said he,
"We got a try, you see",
'Two tries', thought me,
Knowing that he would agree,
It's 'Cymru am byth', for you and me.

Roger Bennett, Penrhyncoch, March 16, 2013


Summary

The poetry writing is still going strong with a three stanza poem of four lines of three feet in each stanza written on the 15 July 2012 along with my homage to the victims of the Olympic Games held in Munich in 1972 written on the 26 of the same month with a four stanza poem consisting of four lines each with four feet.

Volume I of my poetry was typed up and a hard back bound copy handed to each of my daughters at Christmas 2011 (along with other presents of course).  Volume II of the poetry is probably complete, but alas it's still mainly in it's handwritten form in the notebook that I carry around with me.  Although I at last began the typing up of the poems and notes in March 2013.

Making notes and writing poetry definitely helps with mental health.  It's a mechanism to clear the mind and to gather my thoughts.  It would have been useful to have understood how to have best edited each Volume and how to have written what was needed rather than what I felt like writing.  But then again, the random nature, is part of the putting it all down on paper process.  If it had been contrived then it wouldn't have been that useful, would it?