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Poems By Poet Joyce Hemsley  7/13/2014 7:52:03 AM
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  JOYCE HEMSLEY (22.9.28)
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Not Great Britain But Dear England

Dear England, how I love you,
I will never leave your side.
No other land is calling me...
'With thee I will abide'.

Your towns are steeped in history
From centuries long gone by.
Cathedrals grand and beautiful
Reach high towards the sky.

All nature wakes from early dawn
In England in the spring,
When tiny lambs demure are born
And choirs of children sing.

Such splendour shines in summer
Emerald leaves adorn each tree,
Sweet roses of all colours bloom
with imposing dignity.

Sad memories of a battle fought
Some seventy years ago
Live on within the minds of men
As the British archives show.

O Queen and Country so beloved
Great poets exalt your name...
Distinguished seat of learning
A majestic hall of fame.

I walk along your peaceful shores
My heart is filled with pride,
And with tears of joy I sign a pledge
'With thee I shall abide'.
Joyce Hemsley



Not Seventy but Eighty

Forty Word Poem:

'Three score years and ten'
words acknowledged
way back when... but
now is the time to turn
the pages, re-arrange and
make the changes in this
world of plenty. The most
authentic phrase would be:
'three score years and twenty'
Joyce Hemsley



Not So Long Ago

Forty words:

Unusually fretful he had become

spending summer reminiscing.

Blissful happiness ~ there was none

without tender-hearted kissing.

'Fever' had taken his darling

high beyond the heavenly blue.

Her grave in mind, all day he cried

recapturing a love so true.
Joyce Hemsley



Nottingham Floods of Long Ago

Our defences were down in 1947.

Drastic floods were here to haunt us
and plague our countryside;
towns and cities had lost the fight
to hold back the rising tide.

As we entered the twenty-first century
we could have been more aware
and taken heed from bygone times
when people lived through despair.

In the severe winter of 'forty-seven'
the Trent let Nottingham down...
waters stretched for miles and miles
marooning houses ~ flooding the town.

The river had reached its highest point,
animals were lost and deserted,
lifeboats were manned to give people help
as scouts and volunteers were alerted.

Looking down from top floor windows
the flood waters reflected the moon,
this gave a slight feeling of mystery
to relieve the depression and gloom.

At vital points along the Embankment
river 'width and depth' was increased;
sluices and channels were then set in place
and the worst of the flooding ceased.

Soon after, in the year two-thousand
we were in the midst of a real-life flood,
but the Trent was taking a back seat then
as York and Gloucester slid into the mud.
Joyce Hemsley
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Poems By Poet Joyce Hemsley