Thomas Vaughan Jones
Thomas Vaughan Jones was born in Liverpool, is indisputably Celtic and has those characteristics which include a deep sense of melancholy (hiraeth) for the land of his fathers, and a sense of humour which prevents him writing anything even remotely serious. Unless of course, he is discussing Love or Death, which is an entirely different matter.
Tom began his adult career as a professional soldier in the British Army on the Rhine, where he became a regimental signal instructor and fell in love with countless Aryan maidens. After a fairly short military career, it was a logical step to become a Firefighter, where in the course of thirty years he rose to the rank of Supervisory ... more »
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Thomas Vaughan Jones Poems
An Old Sailor's Prayer
Bring on the Pilot, cast off the lines, wait for the flooding tide. Haul up the anchor, lay off the shore, open the topsails wide.
No love can last forever; No love remains sublime. But sometimes there's a moment in the canopy of time.
The Fall of Julius Caesar
Once, when the world was filled with Rome, through long gone mists of time, there wasn't any poetry for Romans couldn't rhyme.
I was sitting on my lonesome in a corner of the bar. Contemplating as I drank an ice cold beer, when a man from Loozeanna who was kinda under par started shouting out for all the world to hear.
Deep in the human heart there lies a well, Holding our richest thoughts and dark desires, And if we tend it wisely who can tell, What quality of life the heart inspires.
A Flight of Fancy
Come spread your wings and fly with me, my love; Let earthly passions swiftly pass us by. and as we soar above an errant world we'll sing a song to make the angels sigh.
An Old Love Viewed By Candlelight
That flicker finds the corner of my eye. A golden glow that brightens up this place then hurries, scurries through the waiting house to rest against the sunshine of your face.
Forty Seven Years
We met in nineteen fifty five and never noticed love arrive. We little thought it would survive for forty seven years.
Uncle Henry, in a corner, sleeping by the fireplace. Dreaming of his long gone childhood firm of form and fair of face.
Is There Anybody Out There
Space! The final frontier where stars are simply signposts to a place, where, we are told, a paradise awaits. Open to all who live within God’s grace.
Dancing in Sonnet Time
If anyone should feel inclined to try to write a sonnet, I will understand that first you may feel diffident and shy. Pick up your pen and let me guide your hand.
An Eternal Question (The Eight Ages of W...
With childish laugh and dainty little hand She builds a thousand castles in the sand. Though errant tides would wash them all away, She can return to build another day.
A Chapter of Accidents
I was looking in the gutter when I saw this little note, So I picked it up and read it, and somebody had wrote; 'You'll never get to Heaven if you keep on looking down.' So I straightened up my shoulders; then I gave a little frown.
I gaze upon these leaves which once were green, adding such splendour to the verdant scene; Firm in their footings, dancing in the breeze, flirtatiously carousing at their ease;
Comments about Thomas Vaughan Jones
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
An Old Sailor's Prayer
Bring on the Pilot, cast off the lines,
wait for the flooding tide.
Haul up the anchor, lay off the shore,
open the topsails wide.
Make fast the hatches, cargo secure,
close up the wind to lea;
Slide from the harbour, let out the log.
make for the open sea.
Hold tight the rigging, stand by the bridge,
ride on the surging foam,
until the vessel, voyage completed,
turns again, bound for home.
I am the vessel, mine is that ship,
buffeting through Life's gales.
Hope is the steerage, Faith is the hull,
charity firms my ...