Kate Beamish
Kate Beamish Poems
Hour by hour I sit and muse
in what way my brain to use.
Shall I write or shall I read
for such effort is there need
...
Built solidly of stone or bricks,
no pebble-dash or fancy tricks.
Constructed to perform a duty,
not meant to be a thing of beauty.
...
Falling with a whisper, soft, fluttering snow,
persistently descending, deliberately slow.
Delicate flakes land one upon the other,
soon, with white blanket, everything to smother.
...
We pass this way just once, it’s said,
and short the time before we’re dead.
All too few are the days of bliss,
ensure there are none of them you miss.
...
Kate Beamish Biography
Now living in Somerset. Have five adult children and five Grandchildren. Also love painting and gardening. Have been writing poetry for approximately twenty five years. Never consciously write on a subject, but rather 'as the spirit moves'. Usually don't make any adjustments to scanning, rhyme or rythm, just keep scribbling as fast as I can to catch the words as they come from somewhere. Among my favourite poets are Longfellow, Betjeman and Pam Ayres.)
The Best Poem Of Kate Beamish
Retirement?
Hour by hour I sit and muse
in what way my brain to use.
Shall I write or shall I read
for such effort is there need
I think on this and think on that,
some thoughts come easily as pat,
others cause my brain to shun
from anything that isn’t fun.
Retirement. A perpetual rest?
I’ve never known a harder test!
I’ve never been inclined to shirk,
but doing nothing’s such hard work.
I’m sure it’s true, some OAPs
know how it’s best to enjoy ease.
I wish that I was one of those
able to sit, relax and doze.
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