mildly musical

Yesterday the sunshine was silver over the River Severn; today it was rather more rose and gold. It’s Sunday and it’s been a very quiet day, but the sunset had me thinking of music.

Certainly those cables across the sky remind me of a musical score – presumably ruled out ready for the music of the spheres; they’re just missing the birds sitting on them to mark the notes.
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TMI

I admire the attitude of TEDx Ted in the photo, who seems happy to let others get on and sort things out while he sits calmly in the midst of chaos.

I’m still scrabbling to get organised after a busy few week, but a glance at the diary for the week ahead shows at least eight confirmed meetings and events so it doesn’t look likely to calm down anytime soon.
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lost landscapes

Well my time as poet in residence at the local TEDx event has been and gone. It was an interesting experience and did mean I had to actually produce some new poems.

I already had a lot of pieces that would have fitted the theme of home, but it wasn’t a question of reading old poems, but of creating newer pieces that documented the event and complemented the talks in some way.
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an echo of butterflies

Autumn is full of butterflies. Or so it seems to me.

Sometimes, as in the picture at the top of the post, it is only the visual echo of a butterfly. Sometimes, as in this fragment, it’s a memory of summer:

From among the fallen leaves, the wind
lifts a broken butterfly wing
and gives it flight.

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late home

It’s way later than I usually write the blog, but I’ve been out all day at a rehearsal for the local TEDx, which is coming up in a fortnight’s time and at which I’ll be reading – or perhaps performing – some poetry.

I won’t go into the details of what I’ll be doing, as I guess I will write about it all after the event (or not), but all the talks and performances are vaguely connected to and around the theme of the event, which is “home”.
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more autumn

Autumn comes,
breathing grey mist through city streets;
he stamps in puddles
then laughs with sudden sunshine.

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autumnal

If I spent as long writing new poems as I do looking back through old ones to find something to post on the blog, I’d probably end up with a lot more to choose from.

That said, today’s was a relatively easy choice: despite the rich, bright colours, autumn is a melancholy season, so a poem about absence seems appropriate.
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