Saturday, 17 March 2018

Quickening

                                                                                     The Thrush
Dear Reader,



I thought this week I would let you into the way my mind works when writing a poem.  Thinking about what William Wordsworth said about poetry:  'that it was emotion recollected in tranquility', I have always tried to find ways of remembering my emotions about whatever, and then writing a
short poem from my research.  Someone once said my poems were like "watercolours" just small stories giving a glimpse of something that we can all recognise.  So I have always tried to paint a picture of something I know about.  But, and I apologise for it,  I am sorry to say that last week's poem was certainly not up to my own standards.  This was because I was leaving my comfort zone and trying something different.  I had been reading a book about a man, a barrister, whose wife had left him.  He seemed to be a dual personality both generous and kind, and mean and vicious.  Obviously we are all made up of different parts and what I was trying to do in that poem was to show the two sides of this man.  But I don't think it worked from some of the correspondence I have had, and my new resolution is to stay in my comfort zone and take the advice from knowledgeable people to :  'write what you know', and paint my own pictures from self knowledge.

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Seagull news:  Apparently a giant owl has been hired to stop seagulls threatening alfresco diners in a Welsh shopping street. Elsa the eagle owl which has a six foot wingspan, has been employed by fed-up business owners to patrol the streets of Caernafon for the next six weeks in a bid to deter the gulls,
which they say have become a "menace".  John Islwyn, who handles Elsa, said the owl ensured a "humane way to deal with the seagulls".

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Quickening

I want the pulse of life that has been asleep
to wake, embrace me, put on the light.
To hear the thrush, song-repeat, to keep
my trust in God to hurry icy winter's flight.
I want to glimpse, under sodden leaves, green shoots
to announce life's circle, its beginnings, have begun
I want to run barefoot, abandon boots,
to walk through primrose paths, savour the sun.
I want to take off winter's dress, change its season,
to see the coloured petticoats of spring, bloom
and show us mortals nature's reason
to start afresh, admire the peacock's plume.
Cellar the coal, brush ashes from the fire,
I want to intertwine, my love, quicken, feel desire.

                                                                                  *

Very best wishes, Patricia


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You have painted the most beautiful picture in your poem today! Full of the hope of spring to come. Lovely. Xxx