Frank Brindle
This site is dedicated to the memory of Frank Brindle, who was a poet and artist and one of the prime movers of the Beehive Poets group. On these pages, you can read some of the large corpus of Frank’s work and hear him reading some of these poems himself.
As the site develops, we hope to include more of his work, along with some photographs of this multi-talented, multi-disciplinary individual.
Photos
Some photographs of Frank, including a number as part of Beehive Poets. All photos Copyright © Phil Jackson / Avanti Foto
A poem
20. At Midnight
We’d entered from a tuft of green
beneath the tree where
love’s meniscus
burst and fed me through
to feathering waters, calm and warm
from sunlight pilfering.
Wading forward, hands out
stretched the leaning to
the slowly now of sinking
float and drift.
The stroke; the stroke un-visible
and visible after each
now pulling in
two souls together in one pool
no! It was a lake
wide and dark beneath
a star-filled sky
bordered round by curls of shadowed trees
within the cradle of the moon
the midnight of a life.
It’s ripples wavered out
and moonlight sparkled in their waves
as fingers shaped
the water’s bodying.
Treading, turning, searching
each, the other
dark eye radiant
reflected in their orbs
our own warm stars
in each.