Richard Britton

Biography

Richard is a poet, writer, academic and priest. POETRY My Heart Is Alluvium - Collection The Bell Of The Silent Tower - Collection The Birth of Taliesin the Bard Words From The Sky Justin and the Forbidden Water Ascalon Canto The First (WIP) DRAMA The Twist Of the Vines Lake Goblins Vardalek JUVENALIA Sky - Collection

Samples

WHEN THE EARTH IS LICKED UP BY THE SUN'S FLAMES When the earth is licked up by the sun’s flames, What will remain when all matter is gone? For are we not counters in cosmic games, With instructions written in archaic song, And anarchic dice, loaded by nature, One number is ours, infinity hers, One lucky throw in favour of creatures, The rest of time’s void misfortunate curse? How cruel to switch on souls and then switch off, To give us a fractional glimpse of joy, Against the elements’ power and wrath, But maybe this woe is false and decoys, For though all matter corrodes and decays, The photons of light we made, never fade. VENUS (LOVE IS NOT A DEMOCRACY) No options It’s my destiny Even if It ruins the rest of me No return Once your swept You’re adrift Away with the rest You can’t Decide to fall Love is Not a democracy You can’t Crawl up a waterfall Venus has Got the best of me No lawyers Govern this strange lore You can’t Appeal or adjourn Do not try To boldly overthrow It will Snap your crossbow You can’t Deride to rule Love is Not a testimony You can’t Veil what’s culpable Venus has Made a mess of me UNTITLED VILLANELLE The dancing rushes by the stream To be sure they last forever, Into their fair reflections preen. In all my nostalgic dreams, To be sure they never sever, I glance into the opal stream - As the rushes dance forever. THE BOTTOM OF THE FOUNTAIN Don’t reach for the coins at the bottom They are there and they sit and listen. Sometimes when the sun catches the water, These discs they dance and their faces glisten. For years they were flipped and passed and spent - They had meant joy, laughter and even tragedy, But their new life began dropped into the fountain Washed and freshened from all their anxieties. Now they are part of a fellowship of wishes, Not a token of dearth or a counter of gain, Watch them be furred by a coat of green moss And splendid mercurial rust when it rains.

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