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Ian M Parr

We're sad to report the passing of our friend and colleague,

Ian Malcolm Parr.

Gill McEvoy wrote:


'I know of no-one who has given so much support to poetry in the North-West as Ian Malcolm Parr, and am really pleased that at last a collection of his own work is appearing.'


Ian’s move to Shropshire, and his recent membership of Bridgnorth Writers’ Group, did nothing to reduce his appetite for poetic activity. He was a prolific writer, and attender at poetry readings and poetry workshops. He founded the Bolthole poetry reading group in Ironbridge, and had a phenomenal knowledge of and enthusiasm for a wide range of poetry, much of which he could recite by heart.


This is his most successful poem, shortlisted for the National Poetry competition (that’s the top 120 poems, selected from 14,000 entries):

Ian Barr pic.jpg



(After Autumn Day, by Rainer Maria Rilke.)


We have this seasonal pretence,

believing in One who holds

         with infinite softness.

But it’s cruel, autumnal nonsense.


Leaves fall and die.

Skies grow early dark.

Cold rain turns colder into sleet

and gardens close in stink of smoke,

         taste of mould.


Our fall is other’s rising.

The sun calls down on us

         tumult of the storm.

Such peace defies understanding.

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