Today's poet

[stevefoster]

South Africa in three weeks time, then Shanghai for a fortnight in April. Poetry will hopefully result. Maybe even some that rhymes!

Sounds good Andy, i'm jealous, i'm off to Rome tomorrow.........Rome the hills round Ripponden that is, have a great time mate

[Hes]

How does the idea of having a FPS team for the Lakeside Gummers How Rowing / Fell race this year sound?

http://www.nwemail.co.uk/sport/gumme...1?referrerPath=

It is normally complete chaos as you can see from the video clip, but a great night out. It is three per team, and ability in running / rowing is certainly not needed. There is no rush to enter a team, as it isn't on until the 19th of June.

I would love to go and I used to row (stroke in a squad of four)) but unfortunately I am probably doing the North Yorkshire Open Studios that weekend (depends if I get accepted this year). Can't miss it as it is brilliant careerwise. Blast!

[Derby Tup]

Sounds good Andy, i'm jealous, i'm off to Rome tomorrow.........Rome the hills round Ripponden that is, have a great time mate

'Roming' the Ripponden fells sounds great to me Steve! Good run out you had at the weekend mate

[Stef F]

Here she sits alone
full of hope and dreams once lost
of logs burning in the hearth,
fresh bread loaded on the prongs
held carefully over embers glowing

Outside the wind howls,
rain pounding window panes
rabbits snug within their burrows
not a care in the world
sheltered safely from the winter storm

Candles gutter in a draught not felt
the warm flickering bringing peace and calm
smells of applewood burning
a vision of blossom on the tree
the taste of toast and butter melting

How lucky that she can dream
when so far from all
that is loved and cherished
for the reality that she knows
shows no mercy on the tender soul

[Hes]

I have found this poem today and found it incredibly moving....

All Legendary Obstacles

John Montague

All legendary obstacles lay between
Us, the long imaginary plain,
The monstrous ruck of mountains
And, swinging across the night,
Flooding the Sacramento, San Joaquin,
The hissing drift of winter rain.

All day I waited, shifting
Nervously from station to bar
As I saw another train sail
By, the San Francisco Chief or
Golden Gate, water dripping
From great flanged wheels.

At midnight you came, pale
Above the negro porter's lamp.
I was too blind with rain
And doubt to speak, but
Reached from the platform
Until our chilled hands met.

You had been travelling for days
With an old lady, who marked
A neat circle on the glass
With her glove, to watch us
Move into the wet darkness
Kissing, still unable to speak.

That is really moving. I have had those feelings and sublime meetings where you wait for one that has travelled great distances to meet you and this sums it up beautifully. I wish I could write poetry like this.

[stevefoster]

'Roming' the Ripponden fells sounds great to me Steve! Good run out you had at the weekend mate

Yeah, enjoyed it, it was like going out for a five course meal

[freckle]

Here she sits alone
full of hope and dreams once lost
of logs burning in the hearth,
fresh bread loaded on the prongs
held carefully over embers glowing

Outside the wind howls,
rain pounding window panes
rabbits snug within their burrows
not a care in the world
sheltered safely from the winter storm

Candles gutter in a draught not felt
the warm flickering bringing peace and calm
smells of applewood burning
a vision of blossom on the tree
the taste of toast and butter melting

How lucky that she can dream
when so far from all
that is loved and cherished
for the reality that she knows
shows no mercy on the tender soul

Did you write this Stef? its lovely , v moving

[Derby Tup]

Here she sits alone
full of hope and dreams once lost
of logs burning in the hearth,
fresh bread loaded on the prongs
held carefully over embers glowing

Outside the wind howls,
rain pounding window panes
rabbits snug within their burrows
not a care in the world
sheltered safely from the winter storm

Candles gutter in a draught not felt
the warm flickering bringing peace and calm
smells of applewood burning
a vision of blossom on the tree
the taste of toast and butter melting

How lucky that she can dream
when so far from all
that is loved and cherished
for the reality that she knows
shows no mercy on the tender soul

My God, that's bloody brilliant Stef!

[Stef F]

Did you write this Stef? its lovely , v moving

Thanks, yes I wrote it

[Hes]

Good evening Fell Poets. Hope you dont mind me joining in.


Hey listen!
Listen to the sound of me speaking
But not the words...
Listen to your sighs
Guiding me.
Listen in peace
To my heart.
Listen in fear
Of discovery.
Hey listen.
Shhh.
Listen.

I like this a lot and it is nice to see you here Brock.