beresford mitchell Poems

She held on as tightly as possible.
Nothing would ever take her child away.
Nothing.
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and were you amongst them
dive bombing in the darkness of the night
was it you who’s meteor trail was visible by its own blurred fast moving light.
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i want to hear America singing
To the sound of industry,
I want to hear america singing...... out in the open not in coventry The shoemaker dinging
The woodcutter singing
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You know me as joan
but, among my own people i was called jehanette,
since my coming into france, i am called jehanne.
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mother,

mother...
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in the absence of clouds,
under the united nations,  

    a crowd gathers
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She was sweet.
I noticed her.
She was petit and compact and tight.
No doubt strong.
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I’m going down to the river
down to where the lorries lie,
down to the river
to the bye and bye
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time is a reconciling
forgives my hearts defiling
turns off those flowing fountains
softly scales those awakening mountains
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