I did. It's about a man called Harry Ree (as well as other stuff) who lived on the flank of Park Fell (Ribblehead). He was in the SOE in France and wrote a lovely book about the Three Peaks. Just thought it might work in this fellrunning milieu.
I did. It's about a man called Harry Ree (as well as other stuff) who lived on the flank of Park Fell (Ribblehead). He was in the SOE in France and wrote a lovely book about the Three Peaks. Just thought it might work in this fellrunning milieu.
How intriguing....if it is this chapOriginally Posted by Guick Dotto
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/SOEree.htm
then I imagine a bit of fell running was easy after being shot several times and swimming to escape from the Germans! golly!
It is isn't it? wish I had wrote that one...Harry your description of the heron (s) sound beautiful...
one of these days i will get sued...but until that day...let there be love...
sigh....
Name
Carol Ann Duffy
When did your name
change from a proper noun
to a charm?
Its three vowels
like jewels
on the thread of my breath.
Its consonants
brushing my mouth
like a kiss.
I love your name.
I say it again and again
in this summer rain.
I see it,
discreet in the alphabet,
like a wish.
I pray it
into the night
till its letters are light.
I hear your name
rhyming, rhyming,
rhyming with everything.
i mean isn't that just lovely?
Last edited by freckle; 15-11-2010 at 10:56 PM.
Winter Trees
The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing --
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.
Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history --
Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.
Sylvia Plath
Statement of Being
I am a grave poetic hen
That lays poetic eggs
And to enhance my temperament
A little quiet begs.
We make the yolk philosophy,
True beauty the albumen.
And then gum on a shell of form
To make the screed sound human.
Ezra Pound
I enjoyed that poem MG.
He's a poet who doesn't take himself too seriouslyand neither does this one
Apologia
My life is too dull and too careful -
even I can see that:
the orderly bedside table,
the spoilt cat.
Surely I should have been bolder.
What could biographers say?
She got up, ate toast and went shopping
day after day?
Whisky and gin are alarming,
Ecstasy makes you drop dead.
Toy boys make inroads on cash
and your half of the bed.
Emily Dickinson, help me.
Stevie, look up from your Aunt.
Some people can stand excitement,
some people can't.
Connie Bensley
I enjoyed that poem MG.
He's a poet who doesn't take himself too seriously
Apologia
My life is too dull and too careful -
even I can see that:
the orderly bedside table,
the spoilt cat.
Surely I should have been bolder.
What could biographers say?
She got up, ate toast and went shopping
day after day?
Whisky and gin are alarming,
Ecstasy makes you drop dead.
Toy boys make inroads on cash
and your half of the bed.
Emily Dickinson, help me.
Stevie, look up from your Aunt.
Some people can stand excitement,
some people can't.
Connie Bensley
Nice one Alf.
Pleased to report that I am a bit livelier than that, however, I do have an orderly bedside table and a very spoilt cat! :w00t:
Right then, the Old Alfer needs his beauty sleep or in my case its more like restoration sleep
Good-Night
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill
Which severs those it should unite;
Let us remain together still,
Then it will be good night.
How can I call the lone night good,
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?
Be it not said, thought, understood --
Then it will be -- good night.
To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
The night is good; because, my love,
They never say good-night.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Brilliant Alf! MG absolutely adored the Plath poem hadn't seen that one before xI enjoyed that poem MG.
He's a poet who doesn't take himself too seriously
Apologia
My life is too dull and too careful -
even I can see that:
the orderly bedside table,
the spoilt cat.
Surely I should have been bolder.
What could biographers say?
She got up, ate toast and went shopping
day after day?
Whisky and gin are alarming,
Ecstasy makes you drop dead.
Toy boys make inroads on cash
and your half of the bed.
Emily Dickinson, help me.
Stevie, look up from your Aunt.
Some people can stand excitement,
some people can't.
Connie Bensley
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