.

Like Abelard and Heloise

Like Abelard and Heloise
This woman has the gorgeous mind.
Her touch of tenderness and ease
Calms the ravages I find.
Her cheeks are one dear downy bed
For my sore heart to rest upon,
And the sultry words she said
Vanish but are never gone.

The apples sink beneath the sea
Despite a little space of youth.
The air is sleeping on her knee
And I am pining after truth.
The fruitful ways of love I drink
As silence breathes the melodies.
And every way she dreams I think
Like Abelard and Heloise.

.

.

You Don’t Cancel Yeats

The air was loving me today
She wrapped me in one long embrace
And each direction was the way
A child’s smile was on my face
And as I walked with merry glee
And clambered over stiles and gates
This angry statement came to me,
You don’t cancel Yeats.

My heart was light as feathered snow
My head was free and filled with hope
My lovely lea was smiling too
I let my greater thought have scope
And I was gazing on the views
Then I was thinking of the fates.
But now I read they’ve got Ted Hughes.
You don’t cancel Yeats.

.

.

The Pastures of Arcadia

In the avenue of sadness and the melancholy air
I see the juveniles sink into a dark despair.
The autumn leaves are peaceful, but gloom is in the eye
Of the understanding lover as he hurries by.

Darkened days approaching: be still, my heart, be still!
Listen to the birdsong on yonder misty hill.
You’re apt for contemplation; you needn’t dance with glee
Or sing an exaltation beneath the apple tree.

The leaves upon the ground are old and speak of silent death;
The air around the mouth is a harsh and ghostly breath.
And the mind is reminiscing, but never can it be;
She’s gone, and I wonder if she ever lovéd me.

I wonder, does she think of me, in the colder nights,
And feel my warmth and tenderness as she turns out the lights?
Does she see me smiling all along the Itchen Way?
Am I still forgotten when the band begins to play?

Be still, my heart, be still, and turn your wanderings
To the pastures of Arcadia where the shepherd sings;
His late autumnal evening is warm, for by his fire,
He stirs a humble stew and relinquishes desire.

__

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Arthur L Wood is a poet from Hampshire in England. After studying drama at the University of Winchester he decided to focus on writing poetry. He now uploads recordings of the classics alongside original work to YouTube and maintains a presence across social media platforms. In 2020 Arthur self-published his first collection, Poems for Susan.


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6 Responses

  1. Paul Freeman

    Just had a quick listen to your poems on YouTube, Arthur. Wow! So well presented and so well read. I salute you and will be back later young fella when I’ve read further and digested the texts.

    Reply
  2. Jeff Eardley

    Arthur, fellow Englishman, I enjoyed reading these three and look forward to a YouTube listen.
    Nice to read on Mayday.
    Thank you

    Reply
    • Arthur Wood

      Jeff, thank you! Glad you enjoyed these; there are many more. You’ll just have to excuse my sloppy grammar on YouTube. When I write a poem I tend to get a little overexcited and record it before a second edit!

      My book was a more considered affair.

      Have a great May Day,
      Arthur

      Reply
  3. Paul Freeman

    Well, I said I’d get back. In ‘Like Abelard and Heloise’ and ‘The Pastures of Arcadia’, the lyrics are, well, so lyrical, that the poems almost read like songs. Impressive. I also liked ‘You Can’t Cancel Yeats’, though I must say I’m a great fan of Ted Hughes. Perhaps there should be room for traditional as well as free verse.

    Thanks for the read (and the listen), Arthur.

    Reply
  4. Florian Diaz

    Dear Arthur,

    What a lovely surprise to see your poems here. Excellent choice by classicalpoets.org I daresay. I’d known them before and all your others on your YouTube channel, and your book “Poems for Susan”. I love your writing as much as your reading and reciting. A true treasure and a rare combination of classic form and new, exciting content. Chapeau, poet! Encore.

    Reply

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