Don Pearson Poems

(For Julia Howe and to our grandchildren)

I am a tiger, roaring,
and you run, screaming, to hide
...

I have caught tears in my mouth,
washed in the dust of the dead,
...

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for they shall be beloved by their exploiters.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit nothing and yet be satisfied.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be renowned after they have been killed.
Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs
...

(For everyone involved in Poetry Teignmouth)

They wait in ambush,
poems by writers
...

(for Suzanna)

Christmas blossom fades:
A newborn daughter cries out
...

Privatisation
Shortage of staff
Emergency repairs
Signal failures
...

(for Elvina)

Abandoned stone heads
Survey wasted treeless land –
...

Flying ant day dawns:
The glut is unheralded,
...

I offer neither jewels nor bars of gold
Wrested with men’s blood
From the earth’s heart.
...