Local book publisher and author Sara Goodwins was recently raised to the chair of the Manx Bard. Each month she shares one of her poems with us, and explains what led her to write it.

We are so close to Remembrance Day that I thought it might be appropriate for this month’s poem to reflect the sacrifice made in war.

I’ve always been impressed by the war memorial on Douglas promenade.

It’s unusually tall and deceptively simple. I like the way it manages to be striking without being mawkish and I also like where it is sited, between the sea and the land, and near the Gaiety Theatre, the Collonade and the Villa Marina, and very near to places where people like to congregate.

When I was growing up there were still many people about who remembered fighting through the First World War.

Within my lifetime, the memories of both world wars are beginning to fade, and there aren’t that many people left who remember fighting or even living through the Second World War.

In some ways, the Douglas war memorial seems to be almost a metaphor for how we come to remember those who died in war.

Just as it is very easy to walk, cycle, drive or ride past and not look up at the man standing at the top of the column, so, without prompting, we seldom remember the sacrifice of those who died.

Our lives are so busy that it’s easy to forget that we have the life that we have, largely because men like him fought to protect it.

The poem is a sonnet. I tend to write sonnets when I have something I think is important or serious to say.

They are quite tricky to write, but I find that fitting into the demands of the verse form makes me think more about the subject and, hopefully, makes the poem better than it otherwise would be.

Douglas Sentinel

Pillared prominent on promenade, although

Private in both senses, you represent

The generations lost. Yet we, intent

On our concerns pass thoughtlessly below.

Formed from Manx granite, face and kit now show

Scars of storms, not war and disfigurement.

You gaze across the years and town content

With rightful place and placing. Better so.

Familiar, yet remote, like those who died

Your figure is the fulcrum and the chain

Between the past and future, strand and tide

Balancing your losses with our gain.

Your pillar points a warning, and yetâ?¦ and yetâ?¦

Do we still see its message? We must not forget.

by Sara Goodwins

twitter:@iomnewspapers