Category Archives: Denny’s Diary

Shadows from those past

01 Wednesday Oct 2014

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It was one of my Mother’s favourite pieces of poetry. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote so much of great meaning but this extract gave my Mother purpose as she grew older. Must have been in the family as her Mother kept a day book during the First World War that had snippets from Longfellow scattered liberally throughout.

“What then? Shall we sit idly down and say
The night hath come it is no longer day?
Something remains for us to do, or dare;
Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear;
For age is opportunity no less than youth itself,
Though in another dress
And as the twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.”

very best wishes, Denny Bradbury

Genius of Browning

20 Saturday Sep 2014

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So many wonderful poets from all cultures and centuries. Robert Browning has to rate among the top for me. I can’t choose an absolute favourite for as my moods change so does my need for different poetry. From Browning’s very long poem ‘Pippa Passes’ the most imaginative drawing of the start of a new day:

Day!
Faster and more fast,
O’er night’s brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure gold, o’er the cloud-cup’s brim
Where spurting and suppressed it lay,
For not a froth-flake touched the rim
Of yonder gap in the solid fray
Of the eastern cloud, an hour away;

But forth one wavelet, then another, curled,
Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed,
Rose, reddened, and its seething breast
Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world.

Very best wishes, Denny Bradbury

Hips and Haws

04 Thursday Sep 2014

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More inspiration from our bountiful countryside:

Hips and Haws

Rose hips are showy, look at me, look at me;
haws meanwhile hide beside dull by degree
their deep red outshone by such brilliant hue
of their fulsome neighbour, what can they do?

If only they knew what we all ought to know
that shining so brightly’s only part of the show
Dull have their story and absolute right
to be considered along with the Bright

With people also the same it is true
we can’t all be perfect, there’s just me and you
let’s look at the facts and why some are full face
but remember that everyone fits in their place

Hedgerows are brimming with good things to eat
hips, haws and blackberries fall at our feet
birds eye them closely with singular needs
winter’s survivable with larders like these

It takes not a genius or even the law
to tell us again what we’re all here for
like berries we sit on the hedgerow of fate
ripe for the picking whether early or late.

Denny Bradbury©2014

Midnight oil

29 Friday Aug 2014

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Night brings such different thoughts from those that creep up on in broad daylight:

Midnight creeps to one
one to two and on and on
the night that seemed so still and sweet
drops nightmares at our feet
we cannot sleep
eluded by
dear harmony of soul that keeps
the balance of the good and bad
lack of sleep brings melancholy
deep and sad
thoughts that ever turn on grit
the kind that gets inside your brain
and irritates until you spit out fire
in rhyme
discordant notions clang and clash
so when the dawn comes slowly up
the words the were so clear and bright
that sent the frenzied fingers dashing
a tune on keys that never meant to sound
echo with an emptiness
of lonely hours spent and gone
with a sigh we carry on
no longer lingering on doubt
more certain now in light we crave
affection reaffirmation of our lives
distant now from nightly terror
we laugh and make a joke of it.

©DennyBradbury2014

Anglo Saxon poetry

22 Friday Aug 2014

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The Ruin
Splendid this rampart is, though fate destroyed it,
The city buildings fell apart, the works
of giants crumble. Tumbled are the towers,
Ruined the roofs, and broken the barred gate,
Frost in the plaster, all ceilings gape,
Torn and collapsed and eaten up by age.

Most days I wake up feeling hopeful and do not turn to the poetry of ‘The Ruin’. Today, although I write for peace and pray for peace I feel the uphill battle for reason and respect has taken a downturn this week.

Perhaps if all poets wrote a poem for peace on the same day the world might shift on its axis and come to its senses? If this was done at the same time as people prayed to a benign God for peace then may be, just may be some good will come of it.

‘More things are wrought by prayers than man ever dreamed of’

Have a peaceful and fulfilling day – Denny Bradbury