Today's poet

[Alf]

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all

And sweetest in the Gale is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of Me.

Emily Dickinson

Nice choice Stef

Keeping with the ornithology (and hope) theme

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fevourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Thomas Hardy

[Stef F]

That's lovely, thank you Alf

Nice choice Stef

Keeping with the ornithology (and hope) theme

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fevourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Thomas Hardy

[N-dubya]

thanks for posting Emily Dickinson Stef F. I did n't know till I read in the paper yesterday that Emily Dickinson was virtually unknown in her own lifetime and her collection of 1800 poems were discovered by her sister, who thought they warranted recognition and duly got them published and the rest as they say is history.

[Harry H Howgill]

thanks for posting Emily Dickinson Stef F. I did n't know till I read in the paper yesterday that Emily Dickinson was virtually unknown in her own lifetime and her collection of 1800 poems were discovered by her sister, who thought they warranted recognition and duly got them published and the rest as they say is history.

1800! That is nearly as many as Herakles.

Lapwing stood as stones
Basking as morning sun melts
Frost into grey fell

[N-dubya]

1800! That is nearly as many as Herakles.

Lapwing stood as stones
Basking as morning sun melts
Frost into grey fell

I think that should be a task for Herakles to count how many contributions he has made I bet it would be staggering

[Derby Tup]

carpet of snowdrops
beneath busy rookery
heralds season's turn

[Harry H Howgill]

The Fell Poets Society present

Simon Armitage

at Dufton Village Hall

15th of July 2010

8pm

The Poet and Writer Simon Armitage will be reading a selection of poetry as he walks the Pennine Way from north to south.

Entry is free but Simon will be passing his hat round at the end of the evening to see if he can fund his walk by performing each night.

[N-dubya]

The Fell Poets Society present

Simon Armitage

at Dufton Village Hall

15th of July 2010

8pm

The Poet and Writer Simon Armitage will be reading a selection of poetry as he walks the Pennine Way from north to south.

Entry is free but Simon will be passing his hat round at the end of the evening to see if he can fund his walk by performing each night.

woohoo!

I have had an e mail of Simons people (could be a name of an eighties pop group) explaining some stuff, and an e mail off Al what's happeneing what do we need to organise.

[N-dubya]

with regards to a bookshop setting up and providing some books for sale yadda yadda yadda, First place that comes to mind is Sedbergh which markets itself as abook town I bet one of the private book shops there would be more than willing I could e mail some of these if you want, but I don't want stand on any toes if this is already arranged.

[Harry H Howgill]

with regards to a bookshop setting up and providing some books for sale yadda yadda yadda, First place that comes to mind is Sedbergh which markets itself as abook town I bet one of the private book shops there would be more than willing I could e mail some of these if you want, but I don't want stand on any toes if this is already arranged.

Good plan. Feel free to make some enquiries. I'm happy to sort out the bits and pieces of publicity I mentioned if you do that.

Does anyone have access to a PA system of some sort, I've got a megaphone but that might not quite be right!