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Geoff Smith has been a clergyman in the Church of England since his ordination in 1968. He has been a curate, three times, a Canon twice, a Civil Servant twice and an academic, he has recently retired as CEO of the international charity Toc H and now lives in Cumbria. His poetry has been published in various magazines and anthologies including New Writing from the North and Seven Days. In 1985 he was joint winner of the Bloodaxe/Evening Chronicle poetry competition in Newcastle. Geoff is married to Janet, they have four children, seven grandchildren and a Harley Davidson. |
Publications
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| Showcase (06 Nov 09) | |
| A Silence of Bees | |
| Occasionally you draw attention to the silence in the garden This long summer, that arrived full of barbeque promise And ended with the constancy of rain falling steadily, between The breakfast tea and honey toast and the evening G&T Occasionally the silence echoes, despite the breeze stirring the willow, What is missing? The golden drone of the bee raiding the lavender Spreading the heavy scent of roses after interminable summer showers Nosing here and there into the flower heads, drawing out the sweetness Occasionally we share our concern, draw each others attention To the silence before reacting with pleasure when we see and hear The approaching drone of the by now, infrequent, summer visitor Whose appearance is of hushed wings drumming the air after rain Occasionally the single visitor, welcomes and disturbs, a stark reminder Of human neglect, environmental hostilities arrayed against the bee Our missing summer visitor whose absence is noted by the stillness We hear and whose message we ignore between the dismal headlines Occasionally we stop to imagine the worst should the pollination end Imagine the dreadful impossibility, surely there couldn't be, a Wimbledon Without Strawberries, a world without apples or softer fruits or Cattle Feed, a barren silent spring world of abandoned crops left to fail Occasionally we are reminded, the bee works hard at this task Pollination is the miracle that sustains our lives, working to nurture The Queen, so we, at the end of the day in our flower rich, colour rich, scented garden's riotous display, can raise our glass, to toast the bee |
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