Tony Dawson was born in the East End of London in 1937 and has lived in Seville since 1989. He was educated at Hampton G.S. (now Hampton School) the University of Leeds, and the University of London. After a successful career teaching in the UK at Lanchester Polytechnic (now Coventry University) and Liverpool Polytechnic (now Liverpool John Moores University) he took up a post at the University of Seville, retiring in 2007. He started writing in earnest during the pandemic and has published some 100 poems in English in the USA, the UK and Australia as well as a small number in Spanish both in the USA and Spain.

So far, he has published two collections of poetry: Afterthoughts A Collection by Tony Dawson Published by Cyberwit.net ISBN: 978-81-19228-34-8 First edition: June 2023. It was favourably reviewed by Charles Rammelkamp for the London Grip New Poetry:

Musings: Poems by Tony Dawson Published by Impspired ISBN 9781915819666 First Edition December 2023. This collection was also favourably reviewed by Charles Rammelkamp for the London Grip New Poetry:

Curiouser and Curiouser Flash Fiction by Tony Dawson Published by Cyberwit.net ISBN: 978-81-19654-93-2 First Edition 2023.

View from the Summit

Life is thrust upon us, unrequested,

to make of it the best we can,

our own individual mountain

to scale, frequently unaided.

At last, I’ve reached my summit,

an uphill struggle as it is for most,

yet climbing brings its own rewards.



Breathless now upon the peak,

I look down upon my past,

note the short drop that lies ahead.

Having conquered life’s incline

what next awaits is a swift decline.



My hair turned white at an early age

but still I felt the master of my fate.

“There may be snow upon the roof

but there’s still a fire in the grate”

was my mantra in middle-age.



I did not need a modern Cassandra

to prophesy my personal nemesis:

the melting snow exposing patches

on the roof, and a poker no longer

up to stirring embers in the hearth.

Acquainted with the Morning

**After Robert Frost ‘Acquainted with the Night’**

I have been one acquainted with the morning

I have walked out in mist—and back in mist

I have walked until another day was dawning.



I have walked to a plan like a ritualist

I have worn the soles off both my shoes

And while I have walked, I have reminisced



About my childhood and World War blues

And whether it was possible to survive it all

As we listened daily to appalling news.



When it became clear the third Reich would fall,

Its collapse almost came without a warning

Aided by Stalin, Roosevelt, and De Gaulle.



Though there would be no further loss or mourning,

I have been one acquainted with the morning.

River of No Return

If life is a river, the source

of mine was a trickle

that struggled to survive,

to surmount the rocks.

Yet once in full flow,

serpentine, it has meandered,

leaving many an oxbow

lake along its course.

The oxbows evidence 

lost, abandoned, or

exhausted relationships.

As my river nears the sea,

an age-old metaphor 

for Death, it frays 

into a delta,

each rivulet

a fading 

faculty.