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Burning Candle II

£5.00

SKU e-book Category

175 in stock

Description

By Terry Beresford

ISBN: 978-1-84991-161-0
Published: 2010
Pages: 198
Key Themes: poetry, mental health

Description

Burning Candle II is a selection of poems written in the various stages of

Bi-Polar. Some are sweet and nice, others a lot deeper and from within,

as I suffered badly with depression and mania.

About the Author

Terry Beresford was born in Romford, Essex, in 1946. He

went to the three local schools in Rainham, where he was brought up,

apart from a family move to Hornchurch, returning after four years,

when he was ten years old.

He left school with little but an average school report, and went on to

work on building sites doing many tasks before joining the London Fire

Brigade and being posted to Bow Fire Station in East London. He

moved to several stations in the area, and was then posted to Stratford for

eight years, where he was awarded the Royal Humane Society Award in

1980.

Ill health meant a change and Terry took a desk job until 1985 when he

Finally left the Fire Service.

Book Extract

SUNSHINE

It’s the sun,

Over the hill,

Its rays to spill,

All around the world,

Warming, glowing,

For all to see.

Enjoy the heat,

He smiles, he does,

That man in the sun.

Down he goes,

Up comes moon,

Another man,

In the moon,

To keep us safe at night.

AN APOLOGY

I’m sorry for my family.

I’ve suffered so much,

Illness has taken its toll.

Sorry, so sorry, gladly

I tried to reach you, to touch.

Understanding? A little.

A demon one and all.

Send me away to the funny farm,

I’ll give you some peace.

To fight a battle royal

I’ll beat it, no harm,

Come home to open arms,

Rested, a man again, so calm.

I live now, free of those

Who would do me harm.

WINNER

I’ve a degree,

In mania that is,

Oh yes you must see,

So painful it is.

I know so much

Of traumas of the mind,

No scholar could touch,

I have it, two of a kind,

Manic depression that is,

Torturer of my mind.

Rapist of my thoughts,

Pain beyond none,

Torment! It courts,

Too much, to some,

Not to me, of sorts.

Stand and fight,

I know it’s right,

To win, that is.


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