The Only Resolve | Collected Love Poems By Earl LeClaire

The Only Resolve
The Only Resolve
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* Earl LeClaire

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BRUSSELS - May 10, 2019 - PRLog -- Earl LeClaire, poet and raconteur, has worked at a myriad of jobs including, fisherman, lobsterman, nuclear piping designer, historical researcher, cab driver, and chef. He has been writing poetry, fiction, and non-fiction since 1971. He has published poetry, fiction and food articles in many small press and major magazines in the USA and Europe. Earl was awarded first place in the Aquillrelle Poetry Contest 2 for the poem, "Below the Mayonnaise Factory". He is the author of two cookbooks, Cove Creek Farm.Org's Old Timey Appalachian Good Foods and Game Cookbook and Old Swamper's Shellfish and Clambake Cookbook. His book of vignettes, Night Taxi, is currently out of print. His first book of poetry, Below the Mayonnaise Factory, is available through Catawba Press. Earl, 70, lives in the still rugged and beautiful Appalachian Mountains of Western North Carolina half a mile from the Tennessee Line. Deliverance, he is quick to remind you, was a product of the late James Dickey's sometimes strange and twisted mind. However, he says, if you hear banjo music, paddle faster.

Earl LeClaire's poems are written in everyday language. It is as if while reading them he is sitting in the room talking to you. However, that said, his poems are also, structured. Christmas Story, for example, is a "prose poem" but put down in a well-arranged form. For me, as a visual artist and musician, LeClaire's poetry is "word music," and as Plutarch said "...poetry is painting that speaks."

~Harrah, artist and musician


On bedded grass
Beneath the apple tree,
With blossoms raining down,
She weeps
As the song sparrow
Sings not for her
But for itself.
Oh, love, the blue vault
Above holds back tears,
As if of a lover's ragged scorn.
But I am weary of this daze
And ravel the simple truth
Of what was said and done
Between copse and house.
Having banished me
From the orchard before
Blossoms beg to fruit,
I look to the heart
To find and know
There is no turning to obtain
Back time nor deed.
I so decree,
With silent cry,
To look away from all
That Erebus wrought,
And hope to try to warm
Once more in the salubrious
Rays of love.

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Location:Brussels - Brussels - Belgium
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