A hillside resounding with angelic praise of love, Ascending high through its ancient trees; Their fugue of branches splitting the sky In to shocks of light above; Triumphant and ecstatic And dancing to heaven.
And the black hawthorn shall reap the sun, To sing forth blossoms in a spring that will come; Then the mocking crown cut for a kingdom Shall magick glorious in its cruel blood, Another music.
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.’
View all posts by paulcarpenterpoet
Paul Carpenter - Poet 