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Huw Watkins grew up in the coal-mining community of the Rhondda Valley, South Wales in the 1930s. He moved to Leicestershire, where he now lives, in 1946, and worked as a schoolteacher. He has published 'Times' (Nottingham Poetry Society) and was included in the Sestet anthology (Staple, 1995).

Huw Watkins’ scrupulously-considered poems are alert to the matters and manners of the world in which we live: to its frailties, vulnerabilities and also its cherishable loveliness. He is a custodian of both the human and the natural universe, or at least as much of it as falls within his bailiwick, of which, as he says ‘you have to be patient, expectations tempered/ by that balancing of craft with hope’. Such balance is perhaps what all true art aspires to, and this is the proper aspiration of the poems that make up ‘Reincarnations’. (John Lucas)

Read the extract below:

Huw Watkins
ISBN: 0-9537634-4-7
£3.50/$8.00  Out of print


No one, is there, like you
Who lights such a fire,
So often to leave behind
The embers of despair.

No man in his right mind
Would watch the embers lie,
But leave the dying fire
And curtly go away.

Only one would stay
And, crouching over, blow
Tirelessly to resurrect
A dark into a glow.

And this has many names:
Persistency just one,
Passion but another;
But love the real name.

And what some think of brittly
As one who stays as supine
Is really tenacity:
That says, I’ll stand the pain.

And nothing whatsoever
Will break this tenuous hold
Until the ashes that are left
Are his and, finally, cold.