Phoenix from the wasteland

Every year my family and I stay at a small fishing village, called Aberaeron, on the west coast of Wales. Such is it's beauty that footage of it is used to advertise Wales abroad. We go on the same weekend every year, at the end of august, for their annual festival. My mother has been going there over thirty years and I have been there almost every year of my life.

It is always a refreshing holiday that reconnects me with my childhood. One of my personal traditions while I am there is to visit the village second hand book shop. I have always found these shops magical places in which books have literally leapt off the shelves at me. This shop in particular has furnished me with many a significant and timely read.

So, a couple of years ago I arrived at the book shop full of hope for another lucky find. I focused on my intuition and wandered the shop waiting until I got a hunch that I'd found the right book. The hunch didn't come. None of the books seamed attractive. I kept at it though and eventually buried away in the antique section I found a book of poetry. It was called Poems From Beyond by Reddie Mallet. (Can that truly be a real name?). It was published in 1929. I opened it to find some verses highlighted and on reading them I had to buy it. It was well worth the twenty pounds it cost me.

Mr Reddie Mallet has absolutely no web presence and I believe his work deserves a wider audience. Here are those highlighted verses.

From the poem The Music of the Soul:

“And wisdom, sought of God, would know
That hope, through virtue, finds its rest
Not here, in fierce self-interest-
Where life's experiences attest
That sin and death forever brood
In whatsoever thing is good,
And wealth and want are one to woe;

But whence the eternal love descends
Like sunshine on a troubled sea,
And works inscrutably its ends,
If even in seeming contrariety:-
Thus should we keep our spirit's conflict in control,
And hear God's voice of comfort in the music of
the soul.”

From the poem For Self Release

“I pray not for the toil to cease,
But strength to find in self-release;
More constancy
In seeking Thee
To succour and to soothe;
Help in the hourly strife I crave;
Power to be humble, patient, brave;
For scanty grace
Rests in the race
Whereof the road is smooth.”

Anybody want me to post some more? Some full poems maybe?