Posted in Lyrics, poems of place, Poetry, Songs
Lyrics: Sabine Beissert
Music: Paul Christopher Walton
The Band: Second Wind
Vocal and Keys Sarah du Feu
Acoustic Guitar Ed Murray
Piano Paul Christopher Walton
Posted in Flotsam, Lyrics, poems of place, Songs
Tags
Brand Poetry, Cannes, In Memoriam, Oxford, Poems of Place, Song
Sun sets on the côte
Pink clouds drift and hide
I paddle through the sea
Waiting for a tide
And your face
In this place
Now…
And your face
In this place
Somehow
Still guiding
But hiding
Just for now?
2
Rain runs down the pane
Grey skies frame the scene
Your seat is empty now
A shadow where you’ve been
And your face
In this place
Now…
And your face
In this place
Somehow
Still guiding
But hiding
Just for now?
3
The light is fading now
Darkens all I knew
Too late for one last look
The train pulls out of view
And your face
In this place
Now…
And your face
In this place
Somehow
Still guiding
But hiding
Just for now?
(With thanks to Martin Pickett for the exquisite piano!)
Posted in Lyrics
Waiting For You
1
Now that your face is a shadow
Now that your words are thin air,
I think of us at this window
And think that you’re still there.
I’ll watch for you in the sunset,
I’ll look for you in the mist,
I’ll scan the wide horizons
Till I see the face I once kissed
Refrain:
Waiting for you….
2
Why did you leave while I was sleeping?
Why did you slip off in the night?
Why not wait till next summer
When you’d be well enough to fight?
I’ll wait for you at sunrise,
I’ll wait for you in the rain,
I’ll walk through darkened landscapes
Still feeling all your pain
Refrain
Waiting for you….
A Final Chorus:
I’ll wait for you at sunrise,
I’ll wait for you in the rain,
I’ll walk through darkened landscapes
Still feeling all your pain
Final Refrain
Waiting for you….
Cannes, October 2025
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
Sunrise at Plage du Moure Rouge, Cannes
A Simple Way to Thrive
Verse 1 (Colla Voce)
I watched the sun break through the mist
As pink and orange cloudbanks kissed
I walked the line where sand meets sea
And sensed a spark ignite in me
Chorus
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to press revive
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to thrive
Verse 2 (Colla Voce)
I sensed the hush of gentle tide
Saw cormorants sunbathe, then dive
And all of this seemed to show
A simple way to let life flow
Chorus
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to press revive
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to thrive
Interlude: Cello Solo
Verse 3 (Colla Voce)
I heard the thrum of motors beat
And watched the clouds concede defeat
And now the sun in golden blue
Warms my heart and crowns this view
Chorus (repeat & build)
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to press revive
A simple way to feel alive
A simple way to thrive
Outro: Vocal/Cello Duet
September 15, 2025
The Band:
Vocal and synth – Sarah
Cello – Tess
Guitar – Ed
Piano – Paul
Posted in Lyrics, poems of place
Tags
There and Back Again
Slow train rambling through tumbleweed,
Coastline ambling with restful speed.
We roll on, hand in hand
And watch the sea soak sand.
Through life’s excursions
You’ve sat with me,
In all diversions, my apogee.
Beguiling in your frowns,
You smile through ups and downs.
Clock House chimes sound,
The bridge comes into view,
A trip that is crowned (though)
To be there with you.
In sun, mist or rain
Let’s go there and back
Again!
In sun, mist or rain,
Let’s go there and back
Again!
Tags
1.
We went outside
in the
sun.
Your banter had
me on the
run.
As you shot
I quite forgot
all the best
rules
to look cool.
2.
I caught your
face on my
screen –
A face in
a place we’ve
been.
But your look
all focus
took
with thoughts of
what might have
been.
3
I read your
news in my
feed.
Such news you
don’t choose to
read.
Battles lost
and boundaries
crossed.
It seems death
breeds rhymes and
dreams.
Posted in Flotsam, poems of place, Poetry
Tags
I am delighted to announce the third poetry anthology in the Power of Place series.
The Côte d’Azur has long inspired writers and poets with its dazzling light and dramatic landscapes. Now, a vibrant new collection brings together poetry in English, French, and Provençal, celebrating the region’s timeless beauty. French texts are provided with original translations by Siena Crossley.
Poetry of the Côte d’Azur features over thirty distinctive voices – both classic and contemporary – and is richly illustrated with original full-colour photography that captures the essence of the Mediterranean coast.
Poetry of the Côte d’Azur will be available to order directly from Paul, or at leading bookstores from June 5th and on http://www.Amazon.co.uk A link to my author page is below:
To pre-order or ask anything, please email Paul at: strategol@orange.fr
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
We are pleased to announce the launch of a new collection of poems inspired by Shotover, the ancient royal forest which occupies the hill overlooking Oxford and its famous dreaming spires
With contributions written from the 1620s to the 2020s, the collection is edited by Paul Christopher Walton and brings together 25 poets, young and old and from near and far to share their creative writing about Shotover.
The booklet with full-colour photographs is now available to purchase for £7 from Strategol Publishing – please email paulcwalton@icloud.com to order your copy.
All profits from the booklet will go to Shotover Preservation Society.
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
Twilight in Long Acre: ghosts lurking by the score,
Smiling faces in places I’ve haunted before.
Cocktails in the market, pitching in the bar,
Waiting for inspiration (that’s not a leap too far.)
I feel – You’re all real -To me
The starlings are assembling, our audience tonight
Colleagues drink too much and contemplate a fight.
A Campaign shot in Neal Street, promotion to the board,
But greeting my new daughter seems more like life’s reward.
I feel -You’re all real – To me
Seven Dials in November and time to spread my wings,
And fly with friends to Fulmer to see what fortune brings.
Goodbye Mon Plaisir, farewell to Earlham Street,
It’s time for country pleasures and recall memories sweet.
I feel- You’re all real- To me
Paul Christopher Walton
30 January 2024
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
Wonder starts invisibly in small things.
Like gentle rain and sunshine,
Or more likely in this case,
In wind and deluges
On the black cliffs of Dduallt
And the dismal peat moor where you begin.
Here, even the sheep seem desolate.
A trickle first, and then this toddler river runs fast
Down valleys, past Rhobell’s feet, mooches in dark tree forests,
Tiptoes across waterfalls of light,
Beside ancient stones.
Soon you make alliances with others,
Showing them good direction and how to thrive.
Coming to maturity where monks walked sheep to pasture,
You glide under bridges and flow gently
Under Pen y Cader’s watchful eye,
Until just below Penmaen, you reach your prime
And as the chrome yellow, scarlet lake and rose madder paint the precipice,
You are magnificent as you greet the sea,
And begin your constant golden dance of ebb and flow
Leaving silver shards and art in sand for us to marvel at.
Then past Rhuddalt, Lletywyn and Farchynys you grow in stature,
Inspiring all who come to meet you and who feel your all-seasoned charm.
At last, at Aberamffra where oyster catching squadrons and the Clock House
Mark the hour and your translation to the open sea,
We look towards your mountain,
And reflect upon your story,
And all the joy you store inside our hearts.
Posted in Brands and the Management of Meaning, Lyrics
1
Cool Winter in high summer! I caught your gaze through rosé-d glass.
Held entranced, I heard a whisper as you passed:
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
Come and play,
Come and play with me.
Noblesse obliged, I turned around, but this Angel could not be found.
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
The first glance
In this game of chance with me.
2
Blonde Grenache- so rock and Rolle! You left a trail of pastel chill,
And me beyond the pale of resistance still.
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
Come and play,
Come and play with me!
Seek and search, I whirled around,
But this Angel would not be found.
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
Just a glance,
In a trance with me!
3
Palm Syrah robed in silver pink, you laid a fragrant berry mist,
And trapped, I sensed rebooted tastebuds kissed.
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
Come and play,
Come and play with me!
Presence sensing, I turned around,
But this Angel could not be found.
Come and dance,
Come and dance with me!
There’s just a chance maybe,
This ghost will let you follow me……
Tags
1
Musing on losing this evening:
You said, ‘Can we take a brief pause?’
I’m working out all my feelings,
Am I ‘beyond a lost cause?’,
It’s easy to see all your reasons,
It’s easy to see all my flaws,
And I’m not a man for all seasons,
Which makes me want you more
2
Looking for cues in your subtexts
Evading your traps in my mind,
I’m pretty sure you still need me,
Our forces are better combined,
It’s easy to think of the flashpoints,
It’s easy to walk through that door,
It’s better to savour the Match Points
Which keep us playing more!
July 2022
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
Tags
For T&C: The bravest of the brave
Come, take my hand, stir fading memories,
The canvass of life is now ripped.
Come, speak my lines, prompt doubtful recall,
I’m lost and missing the script.
Come, trace my past, trawl special moments,
The passage of time is now dark,
Come, touch these lips, thaw frozen feelings,
Help me to find the lost spark.
Come, sit with me, replay our movie,
Time-shift the end to the start.
Come wipe our tears, and remember
I’ll always be here in your heart.
March 22nd, 2021
Posted in poems of place, Poetry
Somewhere in New England in the gunpowder hills where CT becomes MA,
There’s a shed that’s strewn with arms and legs, torsos and trunks,
And here and there, you’ll see outstretched arms and palms in supplication,
Motionless like stone-cold victims of Vesuvius now seen at Herculaneum.
Somewhere in New England not far from the Lego house the Danes built,
Vans bought the sewing tables from a hundred shops which may have sweated once,
But now stand silently, awaiting alterations.
But the orders will not come. COVID makes blazers and flannels superfluous.
Somewhere in New England not far from Stop and Shop
You’ll find a silent forest of tinsel which once be-decked the halls of mansions like Madison,
Which now are but a dream of Christmases past and stand in gloom
Behind the random cabaret tables which the held neckties, bow ties or pocket squares
Monogrammed with Golden Fleeces, the badge of presidential approval.
Before us, we contemplate a muster of mannequins, anti-socially distanced, lonely and unmasked:
They do not appear to be having a nice day.
*The Ghosts of Brooks Brothers
After the retailer filed for bankruptcy, one couple was left with a warehouse full of abandoned mannequins ….
New York Times, April 2, 2021
14 Sunday Dec 2025
Posted in Lyrics, Marians on the Mawddach, poems of place, Poetry, Songs
Poems of Place: The Barmouth Viaduct
First night in Hall with first night fear
You calmed the room and charmed all here
And later still when midnight chimed,
With notes compared our friendship primed.
Let’s walk the ridge
Let’s cross the bridge
Let’s walk that bridge
Together
It seems so long since we first met
But not as long as mountains yet
So many things we seemed to share
Both pilgrims with a friendship rare
Let’s walk the ridge.
Let’s cross the bridge
Let’s walk that bridge
Together
Somewhere beyond that darkened crest
Your stage is now where Quakers rest
And sometimes lit by orange moons
We’ll speak your rhymes and sing your tunes
Let’s walk the ridge
Let’s cross the bridge
Let’s walk that bridge
Together
That night with Thom and Gill and me,
The wind was strong sandblasting sea.
With ashes then we’d come to throw
You back to where the flowers grow
Let’s walk the ridge
Let’s cross the bridge
Let’s walk that bridge
Forever.
