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Category Archives: poetry

Pollinator, Nelly Moser and A Poem

Bees, wasps, flies and many other little creatures act as pollinators and are responsible for much of our food. I learned at our allotment talk on Sunday that bees have four wings and flies only two. To me this looks like a bee but it appears to have only two wings…….

Our Nelly Mosers are blooming.

Brian Bilston, a poet I admire greatly, has, very generously, given his permission for me to post this gem here for you, Dear Readers.

By Brian Bilston

 

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Full Moons, Strawberry and A Poem

I meant to show you this a couple of days ago when it was the full Pink moon otherwise known as the Seed Moon but we were very busy with family.

We have some strawberry plants in the poly tunnel at the allotment, a gift from another allotmenteer, and they are flowering, much to our delight.

This little poem came my way and I thought you, my dear readers, would like it too.

 

Kindness, Blue and a Poem

Last week I had to visit St Michael’s hospital for an assessment on my ankles (new ones or fused ones – don’t like the idea of either option) and while I was there having a test done, I realised that I had lost the top button from my cardigan. The lovely Nurse who was looking after me said she would look for it and post it to me. Today it arrived! What a really lovely kind thing for a very busy person to do.

We walked along Cliff Road in Falmouth  today, nice and flat for the lovely Mr S who is really walking well now and along there are planted some really interesting plants. Perhaps someone can help me identify this one. I thought it was a Scilla but it seems not……

Today’s poem in A Poet For Every Day of the Year is a provocative one for a teacher like me. It irritates me that this child was chided so when she was enjoying her slow read but I love the enjoyment she finds in reading and re-reading. .

 

 

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Ablaut Reduplication, A Poem and Some Sheep

I follow Lynn Miclea, author,   and today she posted the following which pleased me greatly.

I have posted this poem by Mary Oliver before. It suits today too.

Don’t you just love these?

The Valais Blacknose originated in Switzerland, photo from Facebook

 
 

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Spring, Success and A Poem

It’s officially Spring and all over Cornwall there are swathes of shades of yellow, both  primroses and gorse in the hedgerows and  hundreds of daffodils lining the sides of the roads. It is glorious and our route to Truro today was a pleasure.

The lovely Mr S saw his surgeon today, seven weeks after his knee replacement surgery. All declared a success. The hard work on exercises is paying off.

It is World Poetry Day today so I give you today’s poem from my book, A Poet For Every Day Of The Year.  I was a big fan of flower fairies as a child.

 

 

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Daffodil, Kittens and A Poem

When I visited friends recently, they picked some daffodils from their woodland for me to take home to the lovely Mr Smith and they are in front of the wood burner in the sitting room. We love how the outside petals are twisty.

This delightful chart came my way today and it made me smile – books and kittens? Can’t do much better!

Another poem for you today, again with the people of Ukraine in our hearts. .

 

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Singing, Spring and Sunflowers, A Poem

We learned a new piece at choir yesterday and it was so joyful, I thought you might like to hear it. The music is by Mozart.

Our Spring border lifts the spirits.

Mike Harding published this poem on Facebook yesterday and I asked if I could share it here to which he replied, “Yes, of course.” So, here it is, not really feeling like a rough draft to me.  I posted a story about Ukraine and sunflowers a couple of weeks ago,Click this link to read it.
“The first, very rough draft of a new poem
Sunflowers
A shaky phone-cam filmed it all and so
The whole world sees a peasant woman finding
Strangers in her land do what peasants always do
For strangers as she ignores the guns and stands
Four square and strong and offers them a gift,
Those soldiers with their guns and bandoliers,
Grenades and wire cutters, their killing knives.
Their helmets and their gibbering headsets.
She holds out to them her gift: handfuls
Fistfuls of sunflower seeds, little pods of grace
And welcome. It is the way with peasant people
Everywhere, even in this day of days,
For those who have the least will always give the most.
But the seeds came wrapped in words,
These words,
“Keep them in your pockets boys so, when we bury
You in Ukraine’s soil, sunflowers will climb from
Your graves toward the blue sky of the truth:
Here take them, they are good, I harvested them last year.
Take them so that the flowers will be a monument to
The murdered children and the families
You bombed out of their homes; the flowers
Will stretch their golden faces to the sky
And in the night the flowers will whisper
Softly to the wind, ‘Here lie the murderers
That came out of the East, unwelcome and unwanted,
Destroyers of beauty, carriers of madness,
Cursed for all eternity.’
The fields of flowers will drop their seeds
Each year so that those to come will understand
Their stories, stronger than granite,
More beautiful than marble,
These sunflowers will tell the world
How your young lives were wasted here
On our rich soil made richer by your bones
And flesh, and your own mothers will come
Throughout the empty years
To water with their salty tears
The endless fields of flower heads,
Golden, turning in the sun.”
 

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Sea, Staircases and Grand Mothers

After singing today at the Eco Park, I turned right rather than going straight home and went to see the sea, to smell the sea and to get the sea air into my lungs. It was glorious!

Porthtowan

I read about the staircases in Lima today.  Peruvian artist Xomatok worked with community members to transform the hills of Lima, Peru’s Alisos de Amauta neighborhood with 13 staircases filled with patterns inspired by traditional Andean textiles. Aren’t they gorgeous? I’m glad I don’t have to climb them though!

Staircase in Lima

 

I think this poem by Alice Walker is speaking to all us Grandmothers right now

Calling All Grandmothers – a poem by Alice Walker
We have to live
differently.
or we
will die
in the same
old ways.
Therefore
I call on all Grand Mothers
everywhere
on the planet
to rise
and take your place
in the leadership
of the world.
Come out
of the kitchen
out of the
fields
out of the beauty parlors
out of the television
Step forward
and assume
the role
for which
you were
created:
to lead humanity
to health, happiness
and sanity.
I call on
all the
Grand Mothers
of Earth
and every person
who possesses
the Grand Mother
Spirit
of respect for
life
and
protection of
the young
to rise
and lead.
The life of
our species
depends
on it.
& I call on all men
of Earth
to gracefully
and
gratefully
stand aside
& let them
(let us)
do so.

 

 

Knitting, Narcissi and A Poem

Our niece had a baby recently so I’ve made some Sally-boots for our Grand niece, her big brother having had some a couple of years ago.

Yesterday’s wild wind blew some of our front garden narcissi off their stalks.

The poet laureate, Simon Armitage has written about the Ukraine invasion. The link is an article in The Guardian about him.

 

Resistance
It’s war again: a family
carries its family out of a pranged house
under a burning thatch.

The next scene smacks
of archive newsreel: platforms and trains
(never again, never again),

toddlers passed
over heads and shoulders, lifetimes stowed
in luggage racks.

It’s war again: unmistakable smoke
on the near horizon mistaken
for thick fog. Fingers crossed.

An old blue tractor
tows an armoured tank
into no-man’s land.

It’s the ceasefire hour: godspeed the columns
of winter coats and fur-lined hoods,
the high-wire walk

over buckled bridges
managing cases and bags,
balancing west and east – godspeed.

It’s war again: the woman in black
gives sunflower seeds to the soldier, insists
his marrow will nourish

the national flower. In dreams
let bullets be birds, let cluster bombs
burst into flocks.

False news is news
with the pity
edited out. It’s war again:

an air-raid siren can’t fully mute
the cathedral bells –
let’s call that hope.

Simon Armitage

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2022 in craft, nature, Peace, Photography, poetry

 

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Post Box, New Word and Stardust

Knitters and crocheters around Britain make post box toppers to mark all sorts of occasions. I really love this one photographed in Cornwall (not by me) showing the care of Cornwall for Ukraine. .

A new word came my way. I think it’s very descriptive, a word that is ‘ripe for revival!’.

I am enchanted by the thought that each of us is 93% stardust!.

 

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