Fringford Brook by Violet Jacob

Fringford Brook by Violet Jacob

Author: Maggie Devers July 8, 2025 Duration: 3:04

Fringford Brook

Violet Jacob 1863 – 1946

The willows stand by Fringford brook,
From Fringford up to Hethe,
Sun on their cloudy silver heads,
And shadow underneath.

They ripple to the silent airs
That stir the lazy day,
Now whitened by their passing hands,
Now turned again to grey.

The slim marsh-thistle's purple plume
Droops tasselled on the stem,
The golden hawkweeds pierce like flame
The grass that harbours them;

Long drowning tresses of the weeds
Trail where the stream is slow,
The vapoured mauves of water-mint
Melt in the pools below;

Serenely soft September sheds
On earth her slumberous look,
The heartbreak of an anguished world
Throbs not by Fringford brook.

All peace is here. Beyond our range,
Yet 'neath the selfsame sky,
The boys that knew these fields of home
By Flemish willows lie.

They waded in the sun-shot flow,
They loitered in the shade,
Who trod the heavy road of death,
Jesting and unafraid.

Peace! What of peace? This glimpse of peace
Lies at the heart of pain,
For respite, ere the spirit's load
We stoop to lift again.

O load of grief, of faith, of wrath,
Of patient, quenchless will,
Till God shall ease us of your weight
We'll bear you higher still!

O ghosts that walk by Fringford brook,
'Tis more than peace you give,
For you, who knew so well to die,
Shall teach us how to live.

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO


Each day, One Poem Only offers a brief, deliberate pause. Hosted by Maggie Devers, this podcast is built on a simple, consistent premise: a single poem, read aloud, without analysis or introduction. It’s an audio space where the words themselves are the event, a performance meant to be absorbed in the few minutes it takes to hear it. The daily rhythm of the show creates a quiet ritual, a point of reflection woven into a busy life. You might hear a classic sonnet, a piece of modern free verse, or a work from a poet you’ve never encountered. The selection is varied, touching on themes from the natural world to the intricacies of human emotion, always leaving room for your own interpretation. The effect is cumulative; listening regularly becomes a subtle form of education in the sound and scope of poetry, and a small act of self-care. This isn't a lecture or a book club, but a performing art delivered directly to your ears. Maggie’s clear, thoughtful readings provide the only framework needed, allowing each poem to stand entirely on its own. The curtain falls, and the moment passes, but the podcast invites you to return tomorrow when a new piece takes center stage, offering another quiet moment, one poem only.
Author: Language: English Episodes: 355

One Poem Only
Podcast Episodes
The Miseducation (How the Sugarcane Remembers Us) by Lia D. Elen [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 3:14
The Miseducation (How the Sugarcane Remembers Us)Lia D. ElenThey told us the cane was sweet,that sugar was a gift-never whispering of century-long bonesground into their stalks.My great-grandmothers spoke truth in drum a…
For the Pines by Amanda Galeotti [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 1:24
For the PinesAmanda GaleottiI’ve known the paralyzing anguishOf the dark nights of soulWhen the gleaming edge of a bladeGlints like a glittering saviorI’ve been in cave pitch blindnessI’ve wondered in a world of 8 billio…
From a Home, to a House by Gunneet Kaur Bhamra [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:44
From a Home, to a HouseGunneet Kaur BhamraFrom the place, where comfort was found,And people meant happiness and laughter.From the lazy and cozy mornings,And chattering and cheery evenings.From those late-night family ga…
Sunday Recap & But For A Sacred Deer by Maggie Devers [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 8:19
Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead.Dec 15 - The Keeper’s Dream by Kiki Johnson @kiki_poetry on InstagramDec 16 - The Belle Of Yule by Melani Udaeta @melrose_poetry18…
Still Light Unveils by Marissa M. Zhu [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 3:14
Still Light Unveils Marissa M. ZhuMoonrise drapes her muslin throat across the room. Everything hushes. Desire folds itself into brocade: my letter pressed beneath perfume bottles, your name stitched inside a pillow's se…
Angels In Our Mouths by Sandra Beth Levy [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:05
Angels In Our Mouths Sandra Beth Levy On the tip of my tongue sit the ancient rabbisYeshiva style they debate how many angels dance in my mouth thousands, millions, more than the stars in heavenThe oldest star in space i…
The Art of Returning by Dr. Deepak Dev [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:30
The Art of Returning Dr. Deepak Dev — for the ones who stayed through winterSome winters arrive without snow —only the long ache of unfinished warmth.Even the mirrors frost inward,as if the soul has forgotten its reflect…
Clava Cairns by Jessica Aure Pratt [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 1:56
Clava CairnsJessica Aure PrattClava CairnsA Scottish Bronze Age stone burial complex4,000 years, pink standing stone faces winter solstice sunset, entryway to death, passage to return.solstice standing stoneface deathent…
The Belle of Yule by Melani Udaeta [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:04
The Belle of Yule Melani Udaeta She walked in the natural belle of Yule,lit up like the glitter upon the trees.Holding a dove waiting for its release in her arms the white bird appeared a jewel.Harmony poured from every…
The Keeper’s Dream by Kiki Johnson [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:23
The Keeper’s Dream Kiki Johnson The ice angel said, “I know you dreamof snowfields with lost fawns & tall pines”There are those of us who look to the callof snow’s powder to warm our souls.The blanket of death to keep us…