A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

Name:
Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Thursday, 2 January 2020

Where the Password is Peace

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

A reader has emailed to ask if I will post some poems that are included in my collections,  but not on the blog. Apparently, he likes to copy the poems and email them to 'an elderly relative who loves poetry but is 'only ok'ish with very basic IT, sufficiently to be able to open emails anyway.'


Meanwhile...

I included this poems in my collection with a place in mind that always fills me with a sense of peace. Before I hit 70+ and developed mobility problems, I'd often walk to nearby Hampstead Heath, at any time of year; once there, I would , enjoy a panoramic view of London from the top of Parliament Hill before wandering back down to sit by the ponds, or roam the woodlands, listen to incredible birdsong and, yes, find peace in the beauty of it all. Oh, but it is sheer poetry, believe me; of the kind no poet can do justice.



 Any readers who enjoy this poem might also enjoy 'On Hampstead Heath' which is also on the blog.




Hampstead Pond



Highgate Pond is a Nature Reserve on the Heath


WHERE THE PASSWORD IS PEACE

I am the rose dripping pearls
on a chamomile lawn stretching
across fields and woodlands
where trees tell tales wiser men
and women than you or I
have passed on since Creation
to the world’s poets, painters
and its music makers to re-create
in a spirit of celebration

I am the lame dove haunting
frantic urban streets reaching out
for a peace of mind as told
by the world’s poets, painters
and its music makers…
to still the restless heart, restore
a flagging faith in humanity
much like the rose dripping pearls
on a chamomile lawn

I am not whom you took me for
when first you tried to read my face,
unused as you are to seeing clear,
mistaking an iconic tablet of stone 
for a chamomile lawn stretching
beyond parameters of time and space
where the password is peace,
trees are heard telling tales and roses
seen dripping pearls

Look around and within all you see
to find me, who am called Beauty


Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

[Note: This poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

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