______________________

I saw Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light.’


Henry Vaughan b.1622

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At the vanishing point of Caerau road,
Take my eyes for your trophies
And let the men lead me now;
Singing along this rising ground
By the Llynfi’s twilight waterfalls,
Toward its springing hill.
Where a prodigal child
Will at last redeem its vow,
Made in a green summer dreaming
Long ago;
Before such squandering seasons of my blood
Left me wasting and wondering and wandering wild.

Profligate pink and blue flowers
Linger on for the last dying light;
Lying in blossomed comfort,
Strewn blind beside this path to dawn
Set among the rushes and bramble thorn,
Fading softly into the slow-falling night.
Where a weary blinkered boy once led
Work-struck sullen ponies from the head,
To run and rest in bruised silver fields
Beneath the towering trees unholy writ;
Black and ancient as the burning rock,
Cut from the Devil’s own pit.

Now I shall cross again those meadows into the boastful shadows,
So proud of their grabbing fear;
That hide the raging Minotaur who knows only his labyrinth,
Yet still kills without a tear.
Hollow words will splinter in the crackling litter of myths
Snapping below my tread,
On this trail of broken promises and deceptions bitter kiss;
The rhymes of bard and poet once more blazing in my head,
As a manuscript of devotion illuminates this ascension 
To a final fiery crest;
Where I will stand at last breathless with my brothers
Under the holy stars that watch and bless the world;
Till the mothering morning of lark song and hawk flight
Breaks high above the shining land,
And embraces us close with light,
To rest.

© 2017 Paul Carrpenter

Extract from Paul’s book “Homecoming”

To buy this book £6 + p&p

Contact Paul either by Texting or by email….

TEXT +44 781 35 74 778

email: carpenterp80@gmail.com

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Published by paulcarpenterpoet

Paul, a poet following the tradition of the land of his birth, was born and raised in the small village of Caerau, in the beautiful Lynfi valley of South Wales, and is now resident in Bristol, England. He has enjoyed a variety of different ‘careers’, including working on archaeological excavations, and for many years earning his living as a professional artist. He has travelled extensively in Europe, with an especial love for the cities of Paris, Florence and Venice, and has a great interest in philosophy, literature, history and the arts, which is reflected in his work. Paul says that he searched for years to find the right medium to truly express his ideas, and at last found the answer in poetry, something he has read and enjoyed all his life. In his own words, ‘When I started writing verse, I felt like a prodigal son being welcomed back to the home I left, many years, and many choices ago.’

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