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Paul Booth

Updated: Tue, 16 Aug 2011 08:19 pm

trustministries@hotmail.co.uk

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Biography

Born in Cambridge in 1949, I have now lived more than half my life in Yorkshire. I started writing out of a place of pain 22 years ago. I joined Otley Poets, in West Yorkshire, 6 or 7 years ago, and get there as often as I can for read-arounds and visiting poets. For a long time, I thought of my poetry as 'merely personal', but since using it sometimes in my work as a Spiritual Director and Tutor in Spirituality others have encouraged me to step out with it! I have had some poems published in low-circulation magazines and newsletters, but nothing more than that yet. Writing and reading poetry feeds my soul.

Samples

THE COVERING (Through Wootton Bassett) Under it Still the dust stings the eyes clags the throat Each boom and crack of crossfire is not deadened by its covering Neither does its presence halt such putrid scent invading nostrils for a day beyond forever Its colours do not tint the grey remembering Nor its glory, nor its tribute touch the torment of the one it honours _____________________________________ DISAPPOINTMENT It was blue Cambridge blue Bright and shiny Almost new - or so it seemed to me. Made of tin, With me sat in It was a racer, then a tank; Now a dustcart emptying bins Along our street. It went at some speed With pedals, or feet And a pull of the wheel To get round that bend - until …… That day when the van came And took it away “To be mended”, they’d say. But it never came back No it never came back. It was blue Bright and shiny Almost new - or so it seemed to me. ___________________________________ LIGHT & SHADE ‘Light is life, and life is joy’ Sang merrily the choir boy Whose ruffle hung around his neck Which yesterday was on the deck Pinned down by bullies in the yard; His life at school was very hard. At home the picture’s not too bright For mum and dad do nowt but fight And sister’s having Conrad’s kid Whose Grandpa will be Uncle Sid. So life is dark for choir boy James Who plays alone his X-box games And dreams of joy but doesn’t know it; He longs for love but cannot show it. At church he sings, escapes awhile Imagining, behind the smiles What others are pretending too … Where is this world – I wish I knew – Where light is life and life is joy, For real, for now, for this choir boy? _______________________________________

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Comments

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Paul Booth

Sat 8th Jul 2017 09:50

Thank you Cynthia.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 7th Jul 2017 17:43

Welcome back to WOL again.

I very much enjoy your poems above. You have a keen eye for the simple, and the writer's drive to explore complexities, innate qualities of a poet. I shall try to read your work as often as possible.

<Deleted User> (7075)

Mon 22nd Aug 2011 09:56

Hi Paul, Welcome to WOL . Winston

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