No longer able to lift her head to the citadel, She only has eyes for its pavement of stone. Bent double by some catastrophe, So cruel in its inexorable evolution Beyond any hope of reprieve or sins absolution, She is pushing her trolley in a sky-blue raincoat, With his once promised land now forever at her feet; Bereaved and alone, But for the persistence of a sweet memory That comes to set her free with its secret light, In the bewildered amnesia of the transient street.
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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Paul Carpenter - Poet 