Today's poet

[Alf]

A lovely poem , with hope ....



Between Us Now by Thomas Hardy


Between us now and here--
Two thrown together
Who are not wont to wear
Life's flushest feather--

Who see the scenes slide past,
The daytimes dimming fast,
Let there be truth at last,
Even if despair.

So thoroughly and long
Have you now known me,
So real in faith and strong
Have I now shown me,
That nothing needs disguise
Further in any wise,
Or asks or justifies
A guarded tongue.

Face unto face, then, say,
Eyes my own meeting,
Is your heart far away,
Or with mine beating?
When false things are brought low,
And swift things have grown slow,
Feigning like froth shall go,
Faith be for aye.

Excellent post MachGirl, I'm a big Thomas Hardy fan

[Alf]

STONE
When you bought me a milk pan for Christmas
a woman at work said you were as romantic
as a stone. Watching you that evening,
I wondered what stone she had meant:
a chip of carpark gravel or something fancier
like the peridot in my mother’s engagement ring?
My interest in you became geological.
Pulling on your wellingtons to walk the dog in the rain,
you were granite, durable, funereal almost.
Under the water of the bath, you were the agate
I found on Brighton beach as a child, sleek
and mottled as the skin of a seal.
At other times you seemed a rarer gem,
not emerald or topaz, nothing any other woman
would wear at her throat; but plainer, more lovely,
like the limestone walling the caverns back home
that purified the iron in blast furnaces
where keepers dripped jet from their beading brows.
And a man like that would never choose a rose
or a diamond ring, he’d stand for hours in a shop
on the coldest day, testing the unfamiliar weight
of a pan in his hand, assessing its metal,
imagining how the milk would taste on my tongue
as it poured, steaming, from that perfect lip.

Liz Berry

Loved that poem Mossy

"My interest in you became geological." Brilliant!

[Derby Tup]

I loved STONE too Mossy. Thought it was Carol Ann Duffy as I was reading it

[freckle]

I did Simonside on Sunday freckle, were you there? Bit of a disaster for me as about half way round I started getting pain in my calf muscle and about 2 miles from the end it decided it didn't want to play anymore so I ended up hobbling in. Not sure if its torn or just strained but no running for me for a while now :angry:

Oh no Alf!!!!! I can't believe I missed you! so sorry to hear about your calf, what is your definition of hobbling in? I was right at the back (as usual), and was cursing a bit...pretty tough conditions to run in by any standards what with all that wind, bloody loads of clarts, fallen woods and stubborn tussocks...still managed to enjoy it (well the second half and the crack before and after)...what a shame i missed you would have loved to have a natter over a pint :thunbdown:...hope there will be another oppotunity...wishing you a speedy recovery x

[freckle]

bang, eugh, slip, slide, cough
slurp, slither, ahhh, hack, oof, eek
the whitby cross country

One of my better haiku I think! Nothing like a good slathering on a Sunday afternoon.

nice one Hes, i liked your adjectives and am trying to consider what series of words i could use to descriibe my persistently snotty nose throughout simonside which was pure glamour!

Mossy- I loved the Stone poem, class x

[ZootHornRollo]

sorry to break with the consensus, but I can't stand carol ann duffy - she's a mediocre hack who chimes with our mediocre times

[Alf]

Oh no Alf!!!!! I can't believe I missed you! so sorry to hear about your calf, what is your definition of hobbling in? I was right at the back (as usual), and was cursing a bit...pretty tough conditions to run in by any standards what with all that wind, bloody loads of clarts, fallen woods and stubborn tussocks...still managed to enjoy it (well the second half and the crack before and after)...what a shame i missed you would have loved to have a natter over a pint :thunbdown:...hope there will be another oppotunity...wishing you a speedy recovery x

"Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Catch you next time freckle. Any other Fell poets there?

[Harry H Howgill]

Ooh. I like that. Just when I think I've come across all the best poems, they just keep on coming.

A lovely poem , with hope ....



Between Us Now by Thomas Hardy


Between us now and here--
Two thrown together
Who are not wont to wear
Life's flushest feather--

Who see the scenes slide past,
The daytimes dimming fast,
Let there be truth at last,
Even if despair.

So thoroughly and long
Have you now known me,
So real in faith and strong
Have I now shown me,
That nothing needs disguise
Further in any wise,
Or asks or justifies
A guarded tongue.

Face unto face, then, say,
Eyes my own meeting,
Is your heart far away,
Or with mine beating?
When false things are brought low,
And swift things have grown slow,
Feigning like froth shall go,
Faith be for aye.

[Harry H Howgill]

Brilliant. Quite different from anything I've read in a while.

STONE
When you bought me a milk pan for Christmas
a woman at work said you were as romantic
as a stone. Watching you that evening,
I wondered what stone she had meant:
a chip of carpark gravel or something fancier
like the peridot in my mother’s engagement ring?
My interest in you became geological.
Pulling on your wellingtons to walk the dog in the rain,
you were granite, durable, funereal almost.
Under the water of the bath, you were the agate
I found on Brighton beach as a child, sleek
and mottled as the skin of a seal.
At other times you seemed a rarer gem,
not emerald or topaz, nothing any other woman
would wear at her throat; but plainer, more lovely,
like the limestone walling the caverns back home
that purified the iron in blast furnaces
where keepers dripped jet from their beading brows.
And a man like that would never choose a rose
or a diamond ring, he’d stand for hours in a shop
on the coldest day, testing the unfamiliar weight
of a pan in his hand, assessing its metal,
imagining how the milk would taste on my tongue
as it poured, steaming, from that perfect lip.

Liz Berry

[Harry H Howgill]

bang, eugh, slip, slide, cough
slurp, slither, ahhh, hack, oof, eek
the whitby cross country

One of my better haiku I think! Nothing like a good slathering on a Sunday afternoon.

Best ever! Was the slathering before or after the race? ;-)