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Category Archives: poetry

Apples, Dahlia and A Poem

Yesterday our lovely local greengrocer, The Grow Box, had Russets in stock. They are my very favourite apple so I treated myself to three.

A special dahlia that we bought earlier this year, White Star, has just started flowering and it is gorgeous, about 8″ across!

Serendipitously, one of my favourite poets, Kim Ridgeon,  included a dahlia in the poem he posted this morning. I had just been given permission to include it here when I realised that I could get the perfect photo to go with it though ours is the first of the plant not the last, I hope. I love the words, ‘delicate strength’ as they so well capture what the dahlia brings to the season along with a smile. .

For those of you who liked the beautiful seed packets yesterday, here are a few more.

 

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Colours, Car, Cat and Choice

By the time we had finished singing in Penryn this morning, the tide had gone right out so I was very glad that a fellow singer encouraged me to ‘Seize the moment!’ when I spotted this lovely colourful reflection.

As we were leaving our fabulous singing session, we were chatting at the junction when a window box went by, stopping long enough at the traffic lights for me to catch a picture. It was delightful to see the little dog in the window once I had uploaded the photo.

The lovely Mr S and I went back to Penryn this afternoon to take the cushions out of the boat for its winter storage. While in the boatyard, I met a ship’s cat, Pearl, just 15 weeks old, who has just learned how to go up and down the ladder.

A bonus for you! Today is National Poetry Day. The theme is choice and on the National Poetry Day website I found a poem by one of my favourite poets whose work I have shared here before. A short extract was read on the radio this morning and I was delighted to find it ‘with kind permission of the poet’ allowing it to be shared. The last few lines particularly resonated with me.  Do click on the link – there are many more poems for you there.

Choice

i

I may raise my child in this man’s house
or that man’s love,
warm her on this one’s smile, wean
her to that one’s wit,
praise or blame at a chosen moment,
in a considered way, say
yes or no, true, false, tomorrow
not today. . .

Finally, who will she be
when the choices are made,
when the choosers are dead,
and of the men I love, the teeth are left
chattering with me underground?
just the sum of me
and this or that
other?

Who can she be but, helplessly,
herself?

ii

Some day your head won’t find my lap
so easily. Trust is a habit you’ll soon break.

Once, stroking a kitten’s head
through a haze of fur, I was afraid
of my own hand big and strong and quivering
with the urge to crush.
Here, in the neck’s strong curve, the cradling arm,
love leers close to violence.

Your head too fragile, child,
under a mist of hair.
Home is this space in my lap, till the body reforms,
tissues stretch, flesh turns firm.
Your kitten-bones will harden,
grow away from me, till you and I are sure
we are both safe.

iii

I spent years hiding from your face,
the weight of your arms, warmth
of your breath. Through feverish nights,
dreaming of you, the watchdogs of virtue
and obedience crouched on my chest. ‘Shake
them off,’ I told myself, and did. Wallowed
in small perversities, celebrated as they came
of age, matured to sins.

I call this freedom now,
watch the word cavort luxuriously, strut
my independence across whole continents
of sheets. But turning from the grasp
of arms, the rasp of breath,
to look through darkened windows at the night,
Mother, I find you staring back at me.

When did my body agree
to wear your face?

© Imtiaz Dharker, from Postcards from god (Bloodaxe Books, 1997)

With kind permission of the poet

 

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Today, Berries and A Poem

 

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Gladiolus, Water Tower and A Poem

The wind has broken our yellow gladiolus so I brought it in and put it with some Japanese anemones. When I came down this morning the sunlight was making it glow.

Yesterday I caught the Trelissick Water Tower in the gloom but still  love the golden squirrel.

My poet friend, Kim Ridgeon,  thought carefully before publishing the following thoughtful and rather disturbing poem. Likewise I have thought before posting it here. I have the same reservations about my blog – it’s about beautiful things and I try to avoid politics here (Not elsewhere!) but Kim’s poem is a beautiful piece about the horror we are all feeling about Afghanistan.

Thank you, Kim.

 

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Allotment Week, Zucchini Flowers and A Poem

Today is the last day of National Allotment Week and every day this week we have eaten from the allotment – broad beans, runner beans, golden beans, purple dwarf beans, courgettes, patty pan squash, tomatoes and a chilli.

I keep hoping that there will be more than one Courgette flower so that I can play with stuffing them! Although, as Shirley Conran once said, “Life’s too short to stuff a mushroom,” so maybe it’s too short to stuff a courgette flower!  They are pretty though.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost
 

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Sweet Peas, Seed Pod and Peace Poem

I am delighted with the wall of sweet peas we have grown to hide the shed and potting shelves. The mix  of Sweet Peas, Verbena Bonariensis and Love-in-a-Mist has been delightful, both colourful and scented.

I love how the Crinodendron keeps producing flowers even though there are seeds aplenty all over.

My friend Kim Ridgeon has penned the following beautiful poem. Read it aloud to feel how the carefully crafted words slow you down so that the meaning of the poem is enhanced and peace settles all around you.

Nature’s Smile by Kim Ridgeon

 

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A Poem, A Poppy and A New Outfit

The following poem came to me the other day and so clearly expressed the joy of ‘gathering’ treasures along the way.

Something snapped the head off one of our glorious red frilly poppies still in bud but with the outer skin just opening. I put it in Mum’s green glass and over two days it has opened up beautifully.

ClothKitty now has some shorts and a sun hat.

 

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A Poem, Blue Muffins and A Poppy

I heard Jackie Kay on Radio 4 this afternoon and learned about the inspiration for writing one of her poems.  She had heard that from 2017 babies born in Scotland were to get a cardboard box containing mattress, sheets, clothes – all a new born might need. She wrote to the government to suggest that there should be a poem in the box and they said ‘Yes!’  So, she wrote the  poem ‘Welcome wee one’.  She spoke of how new Mums would see her on the street, thank her for the poem and ask for selfies.  I think this is brilliant.

This afternoon I have made some Blueberry Muffins and yes, they are really blue!

Every day we have another poppy.

 

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Purple and White, Gold and A Poem

The Aliums and Poppies are blooming together as designed. That colour scheme doesn’t always work as my attempt at the same colours with tulips showed in the Spring.

Our rose is giving us bloom after bloom and has such a lovely old fashioned rose scent. Does anyone else remember collecting the petals of roses and trying to make perfume? It always ended up as a rather gruesome mixture both in looks and smell!

Today I have sorted the place where I put cuttings and bits of paper that I want to keep for some reason. I’m not sure when I cut this rather lovely and very touching poem out of the paper. It’s by Christopher Reid who was the Costa Book of the Year winner in 2009 and was the Saturday Poem in The Guardian sometime in 2010.

 

 

Some Poppies and A Pastiche

A pot-full of various poppies has flowered and is lovely.

Michael  Rosen has written a pastiche of Lewis Carroll’s poem, Jabberwocky, a longtime favourite and we love it! It takes the mickey out of recent events in UK politics concerning a video, an affair and a resignation

This came to me via a tweet and some final letters are missing but I hope they don’t spoil your enjoyment.

 

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