Posted by Admin on 27 June 2006, 12:00 am
I guard no moat-infested gate,
stern relic of the feudal years;
I keep no mounted men in state,
dragoons, hussars, or musketeers;
I lock no gyves of iron wrought,
yet of escape there is no risk,
for here the Soul of Song is caught
in micro-grooved and shining disc.
The finest voice in all the land,
released at will, yet never free,
but subject to my next command,
to sing, and sing again, for me:
and like a tyrant, fierce of mien,
for life I hold Bel Canto’s queen.
From Kairos – Selected Poems No 1, a book of Mr Hudson’s poetry.
Kairos means “opportune moment”.
T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.
This work may not be reproduced without prior permission of the author.
Village
Parish Council