Sounds of Distant Drums.. a book of Poetry.

By Alfred Hutchison.

I originally posted this in 2013, July I think, and today while breezing through the book I came once more on this poem… one of my favourites… which reminded me of this post that had me writing poetry…. well I call it poetry… thought I’d share it once more… below is the original post…

I received a gift from a good friend of mine, a book of poems… This was so un-expected… but so appreciated… I immediately rushed into the nearest Coffee shop and started to read… when I got home, I sat and this poem just flowed out of me, (remember I’m no poet, but love poetry) .. here is what I sent Alf. ….

Oh Lord I receive a gift today,

Sent to me from far away,

A gift, that has me inspired,

To emulate the desire inside.

 

A gift from a friend who God has blessed,

With the words of the poet inside his head,

A man of God who remembers his past,

A true man whom can’t be taken to task.

 

Is it a gift that one would expect?

Which I went with enthusiasm to collect,

A surprise when opened I had to read,

A book from Alf it was indeed.

 

Could anyone impede the need?

To quickly open this book and read,

The wise words of wisdom spread,

Not written in pen or pencil lead.

 

A coffee shop across the road,

To which I entered with ordered code,

A mug of coffee, not good for me,

Instead of ordering a pot of tea.

 

I sat and read with head bent down,

Upon the words of a friend I’d found,

The words that stirred deep memories,

Of long age pasts sweet journeys.

 

The words so profound,

That it did compound,

The feelings I past felt,

That Alf has been dealt,

A gift from God to which he is blessed,

That has stirred the past in me refreshed,

The poems filled with rhythm and rhyme,

That in themselves talk of Heaven Divine.

 

Alf replied to my thanks with more words that touched my heart…

“See how easy it is Rob ? Accept the book as a gift for all the unending encouragement you have given me … May God richly bless you my friend …Now you have a taste for poetry lets see more ….”

Oh how I wish I could… but with his permission I add one of his poems here, with a few photos of mine that just sprang to mind when I read the poem… (no animals were hurt or damaged in anyway in this poem or the photos depicting the poem….)

Called……. “A Lion Roars”

           Come with me, hold tight my hand,

           Whilst I show you my beloved land,

           Africa’s blood washes through my veins,

      From Bushveld glades to savannah plains.

           Have you ever heard a lion roar?

           Been close enough to touch his paw,

          Stared eye to eye, smelled his breath,

              Observed razor teeth of instant death,

  

 

           

                    And then that roar… that numbing sound

                    Send tremors through the very ground.

               A lightening swipe of five sharp claws;

               No video this, you can’t press pause.

 

                   Reality life, your minutes numbered,

                   Certain death … your life encumbered;

                   But that day twas not meant to be,

                   God’s heaven had no need of me.

 

                  A shot rang out … a sound so sweet,

                  The King of beasts lay at my feet,

                  This was no trophy, no great prize.

                      My life, his death … no compromise.

Author Alf Hutchison.. with permission.

Alf’s Book is available from hutch@yebo.co.za

and if on Face Book go to https://www.facebook.com/soundsofdistantdrums

and like his page and read more of his work… brilliant….

MASTER JACK

Master Jack was old and grey; time had passed him by,
Wizened hands betrayed his age, but a glint lay in his eye;
Physique so very frail now, had fought a thousand ‘wars’,
Waiting now upon God’s will; Jack’s life had lost its cause.

The souls of those who’d mattered; were now long in their graves,
Fond memories of times gone by, crashed over him in waves.
His children had all forsaken him; forsaken him, every one;
Embarrassed by his manner, and the sharpness of his tongue,

Tears fell upon his trembling hands, as he gazed on them with love,
These hands had been God’s gift to him, from heaven up above;
Hands that blessed the Lord almighty; gave thanks for all their food,
Those hands had even built their home, beside the forest wood.

Hands carved their wooden furniture; and planted crops to sell,
When drought had struck the barren land, they dug for him a well,
Skilled hands had caught his children, emerging from the womb.
Seven boys, and three small girls; now adults in full bloom.

Gnarled hands from manual labor, digits enflamed and sore,
Busy hands made impotent; were functioning no more,
Spastic hands, arthritic hands; worked now ‘to the bone’,
Not one soul to help him farm; Master Jack prayed all alone.

“My Lord I have to thank you, for these two hands of mine,
The countless tasks accomplished, through your two gifts Divine”,
Calloused hands now pressed in prayer; “I wish new turf to roam”,
Soulful eyes glinted heavenward, “Please Lord… take me home”

Courtesy of…
Alf Hutchison

This poem is shared with Alf’s permission, I am enamoured by his poetry… oh just so good… one can picture the hands so well drawn by Alf’s Daughter.