Rhys Clement

Tillington, Hereford, UK

Born 19th December 1915, at Crickhowell, Powys, I am a retired Local Government Officer, and have been married to Mary for 47 years. We have a daughter, Janet, and a son, Timothy. Our grandchildren are Mark and Kate. My interests are golf, gardening, painting and walking, and I am a member of Herefordshire Arts and Crafts Society, and The International Society for Poets. My poetry is mainly religious, but I also enjoy reflecting on episodes in my life and putting them to verse. I endeavor to convey my feelings of the certainty and progress of the spiritual in mankind.

Easter Reply

Oft did she ask with serious mind,
Where will I be when this be shorn,
Will this be the all there is?
The questions made her quite forlorn.
She left at last her earthly frame,
And that, which was the one we thought,
passed into the holy ground,
Which she and husband Sam had bought.
Easter! And to the holy ground,
We pilgrimaged - but heavy stepped.
The grave was vibrant with the blooms,
But what came next - her doubt was swept?
Daffodils heralding the day,
But one stood out on longer leg
With trumpet reaching for the sky,
and showing us a blackbird egg.
The how's and wherefore's we knew not,
The why's we knew for sure;
A life more beautiful we saw
In nature's wondrous metaphor.
We left the scene with lighter heart,
And slipped into the car and said,
How wonderful this day has been
When two white doves flew overhead.

Oft did she ask with serious mind,
Where will I be when this be shorn?
The answer came that Easter Day,
When cord is broke' you are reborn.

Eternal Spring

The mystery of the Season Spring,
And why to it all things respond;
-Growth brings happiness and hope-
My wont for which to ponder on.
When sunshine taps the window panes,
It removes the shade from eyes,
And entices one from slumber,
Dispelling haunting woes and sighs.
So be it with the heavenly warmth,
When shared and thoughts incline,
That candle is to dear Old Sol,
As finite love to Love Divine.
So undefined yet understood
In part, by those who search doth make.
Time the imposter standeth still,
When timeless journey rebirth takes.
The lesson then of Seasons Four,
Culminates in Season Spring;
See in that in which one sees, a
Spring with an everlasting ring.