When I gaze outside my window
Unable to go out there,
I want to share with you
Events cast in my mind, like stone.
Most Sundays in the summer
Under a blazing sky, Mum
And I went for walks, across
The field, or up the lanes,
Where I gained my knowledge
Of Nature.
"What's the name of that flower?"
Mum would demand, and if I
Could not remember, she would say,
"I only told you the other day!"
Every grass was named, every tree,
Every bird, every wild flower I
Learned in those instructive
Hours. "Hold up a piece of grass
and it will show which
Direction the wind blows"
I was told.
She even named every apple
On the trees, carefully pointing
Out the country code,
First use the ones on the ground,
If there are any to be found.
Even in those hard times she
Would insist, "No collecting birds
Eggs, I would rather see them
Perched in trees, if you please."
And half way up the lane we
Would stop at the well and
Slurp water out of our hands,
It was grand.
And way back then my mother
Bestowed on me a priceless gift
A love of the countryside,
Where beauty still abounds,
All around.
Augustine Nash.
Saturday, 30 November 2013
Sunday, 24 November 2013
Poem; Grenville.
I stood there, in the warm air
Listening to the sounds,
Carrying through the air,
Beside my brother's grave.
You were too young to die,
I remember mum saying, "Why?"
This church is only small
And cool inside, and I can't
Hide the memories of long ago,
Those hymns still flow
In my brain, like the sound
Of pattering rain.
I stood and listened to familiar
Sounds, all around. Humming
Of bees filled the air, and a cock
Crowed, somewhere over there,
And a lawnmower shattered
The sound, all around.
I remember the time they
Laid you to rest, Grenville,
That was a summer's day too,
I was young too, and felt
Such grief and pain,
That I would never see you again.
I stood in the warm air,
Placing the flowers on your grave,
With such familiar sounds
And I knew wherever you are,
You will be a bright shining star.
Augustine Nash.
Listening to the sounds,
Carrying through the air,
Beside my brother's grave.
You were too young to die,
I remember mum saying, "Why?"
This church is only small
And cool inside, and I can't
Hide the memories of long ago,
Those hymns still flow
In my brain, like the sound
Of pattering rain.
I stood and listened to familiar
Sounds, all around. Humming
Of bees filled the air, and a cock
Crowed, somewhere over there,
And a lawnmower shattered
The sound, all around.
I remember the time they
Laid you to rest, Grenville,
That was a summer's day too,
I was young too, and felt
Such grief and pain,
That I would never see you again.
I stood in the warm air,
Placing the flowers on your grave,
With such familiar sounds
And I knew wherever you are,
You will be a bright shining star.
Augustine Nash.
Thursday, 14 November 2013
Poem; Such was life.
My sister and I lay
On our faces in the long grass,
Watching the insects pass.
The sun shone down on
Our backs and we could
Hear the quacks of the ducks
Over on the pond, curled up
Together, enjoying the hot weather.
And over the hill the cows
Peacefully cropped the grass,
Waiting to be milked.
Joyce and I lay under
A blue sky, pretending the long
Grass was a jungle, where
Wild beasts lurked, with open
Jaws, and fearsome teeth,
But what we only saw was
Daises by the score,
And buttercups, golden in the sun,
We had such fun.
Our imaginations roamed far
From home, to an imaginary place,
Lying on our face.
And in the back yard we heard,
Mums birds, clucking away,
A magical sound, as we lay
On the ground in the field.
On our faces in the long grass,
Watching the insects pass.
The sun shone down on
Our backs and we could
Hear the quacks of the ducks
Over on the pond, curled up
Together, enjoying the hot weather.
And over the hill the cows
Peacefully cropped the grass,
Waiting to be milked.
Joyce and I lay under
A blue sky, pretending the long
Grass was a jungle, where
Wild beasts lurked, with open
Jaws, and fearsome teeth,
But what we only saw was
Daises by the score,
And buttercups, golden in the sun,
We had such fun.
Our imaginations roamed far
From home, to an imaginary place,
Lying on our face.
And in the back yard we heard,
Mums birds, clucking away,
A magical sound, as we lay
On the ground in the field.
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Poem; Mans inhumanity...
Their faces stare out from my TV screen,
With lack-lustre eyes and tears on
Their face, it is a disgrace.
In today's world why should they starve,
Thirsty for water, and skeleton bodies,
No roof over their head, no bed.
These little black faces haunt my day,
And I want to shout, and say,
Why should this be?
We who have everything and
Still inclined to moan no
Nothing of this suffering far from home,
We bask in affluence while the
Other half starve, hardened to the
Fact of what others lack.
And if your like me and do despair,
Don't turn the other way,
Act, and give something today.
Augustine Nash.
With lack-lustre eyes and tears on
Their face, it is a disgrace.
In today's world why should they starve,
Thirsty for water, and skeleton bodies,
No roof over their head, no bed.
These little black faces haunt my day,
And I want to shout, and say,
Why should this be?
We who have everything and
Still inclined to moan no
Nothing of this suffering far from home,
We bask in affluence while the
Other half starve, hardened to the
Fact of what others lack.
And if your like me and do despair,
Don't turn the other way,
Act, and give something today.
Augustine Nash.
Monday, 11 November 2013
Poem; A moment of freedom.
Autumn leaves are falling down,
Piling up upon the ground,
Flurries of wind blow them up
Again, and I remember once more,
On days like this walking to school,
And when I came to Segan wood,
I stood, looking at bare branches,
Not enchanting.
I would skip along the edge of
The road, kicking the leaves
Scuffing my shoes with holes
In the soles, dancing along
With my head in the clouds,
Laughing out loud.
I burst with pleasure, my
Seventh Heaven, free from
All woes, for a little while,
Imagining I was a lady of style.
A moment in time I never forget,
Or regret.
Augustine Nash.
Piling up upon the ground,
Flurries of wind blow them up
Again, and I remember once more,
On days like this walking to school,
And when I came to Segan wood,
I stood, looking at bare branches,
Not enchanting.
I would skip along the edge of
The road, kicking the leaves
Scuffing my shoes with holes
In the soles, dancing along
With my head in the clouds,
Laughing out loud.
I burst with pleasure, my
Seventh Heaven, free from
All woes, for a little while,
Imagining I was a lady of style.
A moment in time I never forget,
Or regret.
Augustine Nash.
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Poem; Regrets.
You and I never said goodbye,
I never told you that
Through all the years of
Happiness and tears,
How much I loved you.
I never got the chance
To hold your hand and
Say "You were the greatest
Husband any day."
I never told you all those
Things I wanted to say,
How you were there for us all,
Giving your best,
I was so blessed.
I have a picture in my memory
Of you, dressed in Air Force Blue,
Taking me by the hand, into
An unknown land, where we
Stuck it out through thick and
Thin, never giving our love away
Until the day, God took you
By the hand and you journeyed
To his land to take your place
In his grace.
We never said goodbye, and I
Am wracked with remorse, of course
I know what you would say,
"Let it go, it will all work out,
You wait and see, and I'll be
Waiting there, me and Flossie."
We never said goodbye...We never said
Farewell, and I am left with the
Hell of missing you and it's true
We never said goodbye...
Augustine Nash.
I never told you that
Through all the years of
Happiness and tears,
How much I loved you.
I never got the chance
To hold your hand and
Say "You were the greatest
Husband any day."
I never told you all those
Things I wanted to say,
How you were there for us all,
Giving your best,
I was so blessed.
I have a picture in my memory
Of you, dressed in Air Force Blue,
Taking me by the hand, into
An unknown land, where we
Stuck it out through thick and
Thin, never giving our love away
Until the day, God took you
By the hand and you journeyed
To his land to take your place
In his grace.
We never said goodbye, and I
Am wracked with remorse, of course
I know what you would say,
"Let it go, it will all work out,
You wait and see, and I'll be
Waiting there, me and Flossie."
We never said goodbye...We never said
Farewell, and I am left with the
Hell of missing you and it's true
We never said goodbye...
Augustine Nash.
Thursday, 7 November 2013
Augustine Nash Books: My new book out now, 'Wilfred Owen:Pro Patria Mori...
Augustine Nash Books: My new book out now, 'Wilfred Owen:Pro Patria Mori...: Hi everyone, My new book is now out and can be viewed @ Amazon.co.jp: Title, 'Wilfred Owen: Pro Patria Mori.' e Book. Augustine Na...
Wednesday, 6 November 2013
Poem; What's to come.
I know that winter is on the way,
When my paper says,
Snow up north.
Predictions are flying around,
Will there be snow on the ground
On Christmas Day, who is to say?
The long grey days are here
And lights go on at three
In the afternoon, and soon
The bitter cold will arrive,
Yet somehow we survive.
A Robin sat on my window-sill,
In his posh red jacket
He trilled away, making my day.
It was decades ago when I
Loved the snow, and skating
On the pond, which Joyce
And I were fond.
Sliding along the road to school
On the ice, oh! so cool.
But now I view winter from
My chair, silent and still outside,
As if there is no-one else
In the world.
Augustine Nash.
When my paper says,
Snow up north.
Predictions are flying around,
Will there be snow on the ground
On Christmas Day, who is to say?
The long grey days are here
And lights go on at three
In the afternoon, and soon
The bitter cold will arrive,
Yet somehow we survive.
A Robin sat on my window-sill,
In his posh red jacket
He trilled away, making my day.
It was decades ago when I
Loved the snow, and skating
On the pond, which Joyce
And I were fond.
Sliding along the road to school
On the ice, oh! so cool.
But now I view winter from
My chair, silent and still outside,
As if there is no-one else
In the world.
Augustine Nash.
Friday, 1 November 2013
Poem; What we take for granted.
The wind roared, then came the rain,
A electricity cut again.
Its dark out there, are any trees down,
Or, are they about to fall on my roof?
No light, no hot water to make my tea,
Woe is me.
No lap-top to take up my time,
No TV, no radio, so I go to bed
By five pm.
One, two, then three days go by,
Where I am feeling the cold,
And I while away the long hours
Trying to read a book,
So boring, I am not hooked.
Oh! how I yearn for a cup of tea.
At last I return to the land of sane,
It's back on again!
Can you imagine the relief and joy,
The thankfulness, and the luxury of toast!
I shout out, "Hurrah!" at last back to normal,
But wait,
I read in the paper today, another storm on the way,
And we had all better run for cover,
Devastation is in store,
Need I say more?
Augustine Nash.
A electricity cut again.
Its dark out there, are any trees down,
Or, are they about to fall on my roof?
No light, no hot water to make my tea,
Woe is me.
No lap-top to take up my time,
No TV, no radio, so I go to bed
By five pm.
One, two, then three days go by,
Where I am feeling the cold,
And I while away the long hours
Trying to read a book,
So boring, I am not hooked.
Oh! how I yearn for a cup of tea.
At last I return to the land of sane,
It's back on again!
Can you imagine the relief and joy,
The thankfulness, and the luxury of toast!
I shout out, "Hurrah!" at last back to normal,
But wait,
I read in the paper today, another storm on the way,
And we had all better run for cover,
Devastation is in store,
Need I say more?
Augustine Nash.
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