pferguson | January 27, 2024
Now me, I wasn’t scratched, praise God Almighty (Though next time please I’ll thank ‘im for a Blighty) From The Chances by Wilfrid Owen Home Blighty was Britain or England. The term was popular in both the First and Second World War but its origins were earlier. The word originated in India during the 1800s […]
pferguson | September 15, 2019
Art in Storytelling Its poetry…words…wordsmithing…art…cadence…metaphor. Its heartache and longing, joy and celebration, finding a path, search and discovery, its about others and…its about self. How many times have I rummaged about the endless papers of forced lyrics and find amongst them the ones that have remained? Sometimes we try too hard to repeat our talents, […]
pferguson | December 28, 2018
The Soldier If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body […]
pferguson | December 26, 2018
My Boy Jack “Have you news of my boy Jack?” Not this tide. “When d’you think that he’ll come back?” Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Has any one else had word of him?” Not this tide. For what is sunk will hardly swim, Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Oh, […]
pferguson | November 3, 2018
The Great War Poets: The Known and Unknown Brooke, Sassoon, Owen, Ledwidge, Graves, Blunden, McCrae, Rosenberg, Kipling..names of some of the Great War’s many poets. Who has not read a poem of the Great War?…In Flanders Fields the poppies blow…Some better known than others. Some poets famous for a body of work; others for a […]
