One Poem by Jan Steer

To H.G. from Rebecca

The war that will end wars you said
As you lay amongst the literary sheets
The proof if it were needed of your beliefs,
Not mine

A chance for you the self-appointed prophet
To lead the masses with their feet of sand
And take them to some Promised Land,
In time

And what of us, the panther and the jaguar?
Dazzled by your reflected glory
Am I to be banished to the shadows as in a story?
Or put down?

The scent of your success has grown too rich
Too thick the air between us lies
And passion spent my empty heart screams ‘fly’
For recognition

To you my own inconstant sage I leave
The memories of time well spent
In words and loves true conscience bent
By visions hollow.


Explanatory Note:

With this poem I have tried to re-create a moment in 1923 when Rebecca West, the mistress of H.G.Wells, realised that her own creativity was being held to the ground by his outstanding success. She decided to end the affair.

Writer and bookworm Jan Steer lives in the beautiful Pembrokeshire countryside and not really close to anywhere. After a career with the Navy, another in podiatry and an MA from the University of Wales he now has more time to indulge in his passion for the written word. Sometimes he does stop to eat and drink and usually recognises his wife when they meet!

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