It’s summer and the park is knee-deep in meadow flowers.
It’s also the end of the academic year – time for sports days and garden parties, which explains the following notice, tied to gates of the local school:
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Tag: writing
less and more
As promised last weekend, it’s giveaway time again.
Today (July 2nd) until Wednesday (July 6th) two of my non-fiction books – A Poet’s Dozen and Writing in circles. A writers’ group handbook – are free to download from Amazon.
Tomorrow only – Sunday July 3rd – Poems from the pueblo. Haiku and assorted fragments – will also be available as a free download.
Continue reading “less and more”
six sonnets
For reasons not relevant here, I have been reading the sonnets of Shakespeare.
Of course, someone who claims an interest in poetry probably shouldn’t need a particular reason to read poetry, but I’m afraid I do find “the sonnets” uphill work – not all sonnets, but Shakespeare’s in particular.
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identification and limitation
En route to the station, I pass by these lovely purple flowers:
The plant must be well over six foot in height – the flowers tumble over a fence too high for me to look over – and I think it must be growing in the garden of a pub that has been “under offer” for at least the last six months.
Continue reading “identification and limitation”
endings and beginnings
About ten days ago I was running to catch a bus to get to a meeting when I passed a huge may tree in full bloom. I hadn’t time to do more than pause and then rush on, but I thought it’d be a good idea for the last blog post of this month: how we have two bank holidays in May, and yet neither of them are May Day; how the English say Ne’er cast a clout till May be out – whether that be the month of May or the blossom – while the Spanish with their far balmier climate say hasta el cuarenta de mayo no te quites el sayo – don’t take off your coat till the 40th of May; how taking may blossom into the house is supposed to bring bad luck…
Of course, I then forgot to go back and take the picture.
This morning I went across the park and there are plenty of trees and other plants in bloom, but I didn’t find any hawthorn.
The park was frothing at the hedges with cow parsley:
don't confuse the narrator 