Thursday, October 10

A Poem for memorium Dave King

Such sad news tonight fromBrian of dVerse poetry blog...that the poet Dave King has died.

More than any of the internet poets he encouraged me as I tentatively moved back into writing...something that I had given up for years, after being published and knowing sucess in my 20s.

These two poems are in response to the prompt from Brian to write about someone who has encouraged and inspired us. And these two are written in memory of my father and my mother...who encouraged me in my youth to believe that I had someting to offer and a talent to be explored.

 The Irish Bull
He could spin a good story
That fellow.
He could make you believe
There were fairies.
Convince you that things
Were not just as you thought.
Suck you in
Wrap you round
Make a net with his words.
'Til you felt yourself dizzy
And losing perspective.
Believing his line
With it's hook 
And it's bait.
And the further you fell
For the twinkling words
The closer you came 
To believing his spiel.
Aye, he had a grand way 
With a story.

...thanks dad...

I walked along beside her
In war days.
Trusting her
That she should know the way.
Up the hill
Under the arching trees.
Down the lane 
Into the yard.
A foreign land of mud and hens.
Strong smells.
Scrubbed pine
And Mrs. Brown
Who sold us butter, eggs and bacon.

And then we walked away agin.
Down through the fields
Toward the smoking city.
While the mournful sounds of the curlew
Over the empty countryside.

...thank mum...

...and thankyou Dave for knowing you and your words.

This is for dVerse and is in memorium.


  1. smiles...i love a good story teller...and so cool that your parents played such a role in your poetic path as well....nice reminiescence of the walks too...i remember lots of walks from my youth...

  2. Beautiful memorials - so sorry to hear a fellow poet has passed. I will go by dVerse. Thank you for sharing, Gerry. The words bring up such warmth- sweet security and fondness.

  3. This is the second piece prompted by this man Dave. May he always live on, in the hearts he gave inspiration too.

    Oddly enough I would not have had anyone to thank for showing me a path paved with words. My granny used to read it me as a wee bairn of 3 or so, maybe 2 but after that the sun only showed me the trail head grown over in vocabulary and trodden by words. I wonder what early encouragement would have done to quell my rage and desire to enlist instead of study? *shrug*

  4. Beautiful evocation of your parents and such a great way to pay tribute to Dave King.

  5. Sounds like you had a lot to thank your parents for. Love the way you describe the farm-life with your mother...

  6. What a touching tribute to your mother, father and Dave. Love and connection is the most important thing we have here.

  7. Gerry, the poems about your father and mother are very lovely and very wonderful memories. Thank you for sharing.


  8. In the above poem the feelings and the emotions are so perfectly expressed. Words play a very major role in expressing. Words come through Vocabulary. To enhance vocabulary and to never get short of words get connected to


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