Once more, I am choosing poems to read at an event.
It’s a themed event and the theme is “love”, so, once more, I am choosing love poems to read at an event.
And, once more, I am pondering the idea that “all poetry is love poetry”.
The difficulty in choosing what to read is not that I don’t have any love poetry in my files; it’s more that I have far too much of the stuff and a very limited time slot at the event tomorrow.
Continue reading “love again”
Sometimes what you want is inaccessible.
They say the sky’s the limit, but it’s way beyond your grasp.
Things are complicated: you feel you’ll never manage to track down the ends to unravel the different threads.
Continue reading “ways and means”
It was Candlemas yesterday and an utterly glorious day. Sadly, a fine Candlemas is supposed to mean there’s still more winter to come. Which probably means it’s as likely to be snow as rain that provides the required liquid for “February fill dyke”.
Today has certainly brought more rain than snow – there was sleet first thing, and then the constant mizzle that isn’t worth getting an umbrella out for, so you end up damp spirited as well as wet.
Still, we do have snowrops – Candlemas Bells – even if we don’t have snow flakes at the moment.
Although the afternoon was dull and drear, this morning there was bright sunshine and it felt like spring. So, camera in hand, I went for a walk in the park.
There weren’t many spring flowers, or buds on the trees, but there were lots of dogs and their owners, dozens of gulls on the football pitch, three or four fishermen by the river, and several families feeding the ducks.
Continue reading “for the birds”
It’s been another nasty day, with no sunshine. The rain started early, then turned to sleet and then wet white feathers of snow that whispered against my umbrella and turned immediately to slush under my feet when I walked to the supermarket to get milk.
Despite a brief attempt at settling, the snow was soon superseded by more rain, and now it’s reduced to a mizzling dampness, which is expected to fade to mist or fog later on.
Continue reading “memory of summer”
don't confuse the narrator 