Keith & Elizabeth Stanley-Mallett - Poetry Books

Beyond the Last Horizon

Beyond the Last Horizon Beyond the Last Horizon: A Late Cast of Contemporary Light Verse is Keith Stanley-Mallett's recent collection of poetry.

It was published in November, 2010. To learn more, or to buy the book, please see the purchasing page.

The author says,

This volume, book five, is perhaps the last of my books of contemporary light verse, written to encourage those who do not normally read poetry or light verse, to perceive how light contemporary verse is easy to read and to understand.

You may read some poems from the book, below.

Poems from Beyond the Last Horizon
by Keith Stanley-Mallett

Snow-Bright

How bright the day
How white the fields,
How clean and light
And fresh it feels.

The winds have gone
The grey has flown,
The blue of sky
Once more is shown.

So bright the sun
So gold it shows,
So fulsome pure
Are new-laid snows.

Chimneys

The smoking chimney is all
but dead and gone for good,
Where once it poured forth
Its smoke from coal and wood.

To see a thousand chimney pots
Venting forth their diverse fumes,
Above an old town's rooftops
Adding to a winter's gloom -

Is no more to be seen
Yet, here and there a cottage
Stands in the country proud,
Not yet a carbon hostage -

Displaying the age-old plume
Of rising white woodsmoke,
Which, aroma rich lifts to air
From the hearths of country folk.

Differentia

Like a myriad insects
The human race,
Growing by number
Scramble about the face
Of this ancient world,
Continuing to oppose
Each other's thoughts,
Enmity still flows.

They struggle and fight,
Lost in self imposed
Political dogma
Their minds thus closed.

Like insects they attack
Because of differences,
When understanding
Would solve their grievances.
For when you stand far off
From this world as some recall,
One has, to peer intently
To notice we are there at all.

The Village Shop

The quaint village shop
Stood back from the lane,
Nearby a telephone box
Just a step or two away.

In winter the local wives
Gather for gossip and bread,
Braving the wintry showers
To hear the latest said.

The seasons start to change
And summer is the time,
For visitors and children
Help the shop to shine.

Coloured balls large and small
Hang in nets from hooks,
Ice-cream adverts adorn
With magazines and books.

Fresh produce from the land
Displayed to entice,
Onions, lettuce, tomatoes,
All at reasonable price.

Villagers call for papers
Cakes and something nice,
Perhaps for afternoon tea
Pasties and eclairs would suffice.

By Highway and Byway

Whichever road you take
Be it highway or byway,
Don't deviate or turn about
If you believe it's the right way.

Yet if the road you travel
Feels unsure and you don't belong
To where the path is taking you,
To destinations wrong -

Then turn aside to a new path
Be it highway or byway,
Until you find the right road
Where your steps lead true each day.

Every face and every place,
Friendship, family, like precious gold,
Encountered on your journey,
Are treasures you forever hold.

When on your chosen road
Be it highway or byway,
Let warmth, as if by summer sun
Enfold you and happiness convey.

A Vision

To see the moist bright sparkle
Within your elvish eyes,
A light that reflects the beauty
Of your spirit, with an openness that vies -

With such an appealing form
Of femininity, natural of being,
Elegantly soft of voice
Daringly, proudly revealing -

Like the ringlets of your hair
That gently frame your face,
With curls of such lustre
Falling in abandon to their place.

Graceful are your movements
Feline and purposeful,
Fingers that touch like softest down
And wine-red lips to enthral.

Is this a vision before me
To entrap or capture my mind?
'Tis naught but poetic thoughts
Idly caught to pass the time.

Beyond the Last Horizon

Since time began our world
Has aged, grown in beauty,
Persevered to ensure the birth
Of man, exotic creatures, and seas -

That hold a myriad forms of life,
Lands, seas, life, upon a planet
Diverse in climate and form,
Together make a home uniquely set -

Among the star wrought bodies,
So should hold the future dear,
Each day to come, each new horizon
And not be uncaring and cavalier.

We must watch with clarity
The earth's continuing advance,
It only takes one major slip
By man, to deny his race the chance -

To see the way clear ahead
Thus to ensure humanity strives on,
We must forsee with vigilance
Beyond the last horizon.

Waste Stations

We know of galaxies,
Of suns and planets,
Moons, dust and gasses
That cosmic space inhabit.

Yet there is much strange
Phenomena, energies,
And mysterious things
They call black holes, that seek -

To suck in and devour
Everything, all matter,
Even photon light itself
Not even a smatter -

Is left for us to see,
And I wonder now who knows,
Where hot plasma, matter, light,
All of this really goes?

Is it crushed and flung
To other dimensions?
Or go to make new galaxies
In newborn spacial creations?

Or reduced to unknown particles
By local black hole waste stations?

Heralding the New

Ice-cold the pale blue sky,
In which smoke-grey clouds drift,
Above lands both low and high
Each valley, hill and cliff.

Whilst from its distant place
The pearl-white orb of the sun,
Filters through to show its face
As if its own light, would shun.

While over each meadow
Hedge-lined field and farm,
Town, village and river flow
The cool fresh breeze, a psalm -

Sings its soft whispering sounds
Amongst the trees and rooftops,
Searching out until is found
Each hidden, secret spot.

So the time of day matured
On the early spring morning,
Just as in earlier years
Heralding the new, adorning.

A Picture As Seen

The hand that holds the pen
Poised above the virgin sheet,
Awaiting mind and thought
Such rhyme and metre sought, to meet -

And thus impart and write
The mark in flowing poetic verse,
By such as he commands
Spirit and subject to confer.

Whereby upon the page
Is writ with artistry and style,
Withal he has the skill
A poetic work, the mind to wile -

For 'tis only to tease,
Inform, beguile, amuse or delight
The reader of his work,
The writer of which, seeks for insight -

The picture observed, true and right.