Poems by H. W. Bryce

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 funny thing happened

on the way to my new abode,

Sorting papers


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.


The more I get it together,

The more I fall apart!

Pic by Deborah Klein-deJong Photos


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,


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.