Guest Poem by Fred Beake

Fred Beake’s ‘Out of Silence’ (Poetry Salzburg), collects his poems and translations of the last decade since ‘The Old Outlaw’ (Shoestring Press 2011). ‘Dreaming of an Ancient Country’ (Arc pbns, 2025) and translated by Fred contains selected passages from Virgil’s Georgics and is a Poetry Society recommendation. Fred’s earliest published poem dates from the Winter of 1966/7 when he was struck by some winter trees as he finished his piano practice. A pictorial element has continued in Fred’s work and has grown since he moved to Torquay in 2003 after thirty years in Bath and became influenced by the vivid colours of the sea and moors, but there is also a fascination with the music of the inner mind, which often verges on the Romantic and Surreal. He has two children and four grandchildren. This poem is from Acumen 112.

Spring Returns

By the narrow high-hedged lane to Holne;
          and then up over the moor to see the snowdrops at St Raphael’s!

The gale rocks us; and the rain slaps the windscreen,
          but you can glimpse black rocks of tor and combe.

Then down Three in One to the valley of the river;
          and the storm suddenly pauses.

The river is beyond its banks, a great seething white.
          Wild bulls of Bashan have beset me round.’ slips into my mind.

But will the snowdrops be out at St Raphael’s?
          It is what we have come for. They may well not be there.

Sure enough, the notice says, ‘Snowdrops out next week.’
          Disappointment! But we pull on to the gravel.

We may as well get out and taste the calm of this wild ancient place.
          One rather posh car is already there.

The well drenched owner changes his shoes, and says. ‘If you have come
          for the snowdrops they will be coming later.’

‘We can still visit the chapel.’ I mutter back, embarrassed.
          But as soon as we open the gate snowdrops are visible.

We feel joy, and mockery at one who would not look.
          Just a few yards in the snowdrops are multitudinous.