some writings of Pamela Marion Barrington MBE


Mum was born May 6, to Tom & Edith Goodland in Ayelsbury in England. Places and dates are not the story. Mum wasn’t good with some dates, including the year of her birth. Those who try to document her life will have their own challenges.

Continue reading “Eulogy”


The Flowers

Buy my English posies
Kent and Surrey may
Violets of the Undercliff
Wet with Channel spray;
Cowslips from a Devon combe
Midland furze afire
Buy my English posies
And I’ll sell your heart’s desire !

Continue reading “The Flowers”

The God’s of the Copybook Headings

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
Continue reading “The God’s of the Copybook Headings”

Let Me Hide My Hand

If ever I am rich enough to make
Generous gestures let me hide my hand.
Let me give freely lest my giving take
With it freedom, Not the frailest strand
Of obligation must go with my gift,
Nor must the comfort glow of being kind
Be used to lend a foolish head a lift.
Continue reading “Let Me Hide My Hand”

Wild Bells of Easter Morn

After the sorrowing mourning of Good Friday,
Dark sombre and full of awesome dread,
The wild bells of Easter morn ring with joy
For He is risen and we have eternal life.

What about the children for whom Easter Day
Is yet another day in the long catalogue of days,
Who look forward to nothing more beautiful
Than, hopefully clean water, food and full belly.

Continue reading “Wild Bells of Easter Morn”

Wild Bells of Easter

Easter is when the great and awesome majesty of Azrael
The all powerful and all merciful Angel of Death
Occupies our thoughts as we prepare on sad Good Friday
For the glorious dawning of Easter Day and the Risen Lord.

If it was your child who had so little time on earth
Would you not yearn for a longer life and a good one?
You would want fun and love filled days of laughter-
Not sorrow, tragedy, hunger and the Four Horsemen.

Continue reading “Wild Bells of Easter”

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