Pic by Deborah Klein-deJong Photos
Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
BIOGRAPHY: H. W. Bryce is author of Chasing a Butterfly: A journey in poems of love and loss to Acceptance. He is a former judge with Rabindranath Tagore International English competition. Published internationally, he is a Distingished Poet/Writer at Writers International Network.
He is published internationally, in anthologies in the US, Canada, India, Bolivia, and in such magazines as Neworld Review, Ekphrastic Review, and Azahar, the Royal City Literary Arts Society’s Ezine Wordplay at Work.
A MOVING EXPERIENCE by H. W. Bryce
A funny thing happened
on the way to my new abode,
Sorting papers
Nostalgia
Being tough—forcing myself,
Me saying goodbye,
Sorting, gathering,
Box after box of photos,
And I see her here…
And suddenly I am crying…
The more I get it together,
The more I fall apart!
How many goodbyes must one say?
Even after that final goodbye,
And that after all those long, long goodbyes –
That long series of goodbyes to the
Various personalities moulded by Alzheimer’s.
So it’s goodbye, my love…
But never, really,
I now go forward
With courage and expectancy
To new adventures…
Thank you, my love,
You moulded me well.
I shall do you proud.
Still,
The more I get it together,
The more I fall apart!
ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS SMILE by H. W. Bryce
I saw you from afar, I heard your sweet dulcet voice,
And I thought, If only I had a chance / the choice…
But you were in a world of your own, lost in your dance.
I tried to catch your eye, you never gave me a glance.
All you had to do was smile
And I would melt
All you had to do was smile
And I’d be yours/
and I would have fallen
into your arms /
smitten by your charms
But no. We live in different worlds,
Like Romeo and Juliet, without a balcony,
No trellis for me to climb, only weeds and burls,
And guards like gargoyles keeping watch.
All you had to do was smile and I would have smote
Those guardians down, like Shakespear might have wrote.
I was there for the asking, for the while you were basking
In your glory midst that pack of admirers, all asking
For the grace of your smile to bless them with your favour.
But you were not ready to commit, you found the flavour
Of the race unbecoming, not worthy of bending your dignity.
Your silence spurned us all, even me, who has proven braver.
I guess I was not worthy to kiss the hem of your skirt.
But know that I am not an empty shirt. I come with
Credentials of honesty and wealth. My limp is not an
Impediment to my character. I am not what I look like, dirt.
I would have served you with all the purity of love,
I would have been faithful, strong and true to you.
I could easily pass your test, conquered any trial.
I have been awarded Most Upstanding Male, sans bile.
And all you had to do was smile.
Heaven awaits, all you had to do was smile
PARK BENCH by H. W. Bryce
Hello Mr. and Mrs. Park Bench.
I don’t know you. I have never heard of you.
But here you are, in this park,
Offering a seat to a stranger for a rest.
I think you were such kind people in your life
To leave such a legacy behind.
You must have been fine parents
For your children to have honoured you
With this park bench.
I never thought too much of such tributes before,
Except to think how fine a way to respect
A person’s memory.
Now, I thank you for the use of it.
And so I sit here, beside the river stream,
Resting.
The rapids down at the bend
Are the rapids of my childhood,
So I sit here, quiet, just resting,
Beneath the towering West Coast trees,
The budding new trees below with their new shoots,
With the tiny ground flowers kissing
This heavenly air, much as we genuflect
in our cathedrals.
The birds are all atwitter now that winter’s gone,
And when a dog comes snuffling along,
They flutter into their invisibility cloaks,
The trees.
There is nothing better, Mr. and Mrs. Park Bench,
Than Nature’s fresh air
To pleasure the lungs fresh out of hibernation.
And an Edenic place to stop and rest.
