Fred Beake

I bought a secondhand copy of Fred Beake's New and Selected Poems recently on the strength of the inclusion of several poems written after the poet moved to Devon. I'd not heard of him previously but Fred Beake is clearly a very accomplished poet. He was born in Cheshire in 1948 and has written more than a dozen collections of poetry and worked as a translator,editor and critic since the 60s.

Here's a poem I was initially drawn to purely for nostalgic reasons. Fred Beake has recently moved to Torquay which is where I was brought up from the age of 6. However I love the poem for its wild and vivid imagery which perfectly suits the cliff-top setting I recall so well.

My Love's Walk on Walls Hill.


My love went for a walk on Walls Hill
      Through the socialising of canines
Clutching a green umbrella
       Because it was terribly windy


And suddenly she and her green umbrella
       Went whoosh on the wind away
To the summit of the sky
      -High! on high! on high!


And right at the top of the weather
        She saw three dragons passing by:
Green, and blue, and grey
        Painting a circle through eternity.


And then the air drained away
       From the green umbrella,
And she fell, down, down, down
       In the winter-grey sea


All the way to the bottom
          To the sand, the weed, and the stone,
Where the great maw of Leviathan
          Scattered the dust of creativity


And she clutched at it eagerly,
       And rose up inexplicably
Through the realm of fishes,
       And left the changeful sea


And found herself suddenly
       In the acrid smell of a shelter
In the rain on Walls Hill, clutching a broken brolly
       And the dust of creativity.