tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post6858681114135818566..comments2023-04-13T09:38:17.871+01:00Comments on Writing from the Edge: A Yeatsian TwistLorely Forresterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055051415631750885noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-11775933622520513812015-03-24T22:24:54.413+00:002015-03-24T22:24:54.413+00:00I like the second one best. I have spoons, but do ...I like the second one best. I have spoons, but do I have a red envelope? If a drop a spoon in a red envelope into the Thames would my luck blossom in the North Sea?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-37597013512320007552015-03-24T13:58:43.512+00:002015-03-24T13:58:43.512+00:00You set me thinking, Isobel - with your women and ...You set me thinking, Isobel - with your women and poetry. The other day I was reading a book I was given for Christmas, and two of the poems lingered afterwards, both about women. <br /><br />Hillside art<br /><br />Woman, 53, panting<br />wears a blue plastic bag<br />carries a chequered tweed knee-length coat<br />last in style, summer 1994<br />scales the hill at Connaughton Road car park, Lorely Forresterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01055051415631750885noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-69635336260942021322015-03-23T22:40:43.256+00:002015-03-23T22:40:43.256+00:00I rarely use the underground so no, and they seem ...I rarely use the underground so no, and they seem to have stopped putting poems on the buses. Strange yes, but also rather nice; a little secret warm feeling that somehow makes my mum still alive. I am surprised at the sharpness of loss I sometimes feel after nearly two years.<br />We have our poetyry group on Thursday and the theme this month is women. The only poem I have decided on is When YouAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-87426140267232460022015-03-23T20:04:44.503+00:002015-03-23T20:04:44.503+00:00Hi Isobel - how are you? Those are two of my favou...Hi Isobel - how are you? Those are two of my favourites as well, along with several others. Have you seen any of the Yeats poems on the Underground, put there as part of Yeats2015. <br />It must be strange for you now, reading the poems again, seeing the pictures they conjure.Writing from the Edgehttp://lorely-writingfromtheedge.blogspot.ienoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-56502343965695833642015-03-22T21:29:22.031+00:002015-03-22T21:29:22.031+00:00Didn't see the eclipse; Friday morning was gre...Didn't see the eclipse; Friday morning was grey and miserable, the afternoon was gorgeous.<br /><br />I used to read Yeats to my mother. The ones I loved the most were When You Are Old, and He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven.<br /><br />When I read them now, they bring back those hours of sitting with her, the poetry books between us.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-43333216819982144472015-03-22T18:27:04.001+00:002015-03-22T18:27:04.001+00:00You know what they say - Location, Location, Locat...You know what they say - Location, Location, Location! It obviously applies to everything!Writing from the Edgehttp://lorely-writingfromtheedge.blogspot.ienoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187537404576478234.post-70969588914718899512015-03-22T10:06:52.860+00:002015-03-22T10:06:52.860+00:00We were in Deal in Kent, with our feet almost in t...We were in Deal in Kent, with our feet almost in the English Channel, and the sky was so overcast we saw nothing. We did feel a slight change in the atmosphere and the light turned a yellowy grey but the sun and moon were well hidden. The last eclipse in 1999 (I think) was very different. I remember very clearly how cold and dark it became and the birds were silent. It was very eerie. Aitchnoreply@blogger.com