Positivity thread

Re: Positivity thread

Alfred Lord Tension 27 May 2020 14:24 pm said..

Thank you Marcus
But please understand
My green fingers
Grow on my wife's hand

Yours faithfully, a labourer.
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Alfred Lord Tension
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Re: Positivity thread

shedwebadmin 27 May 2020 14:54 pm said..

Few aspirations had I for a wife,
That she be like Barbara, from the Good Life,
Unlike Margo, in wellies but still merry,
Just my luck, she hoped I was Jerry..
Hopefully, this text should be smaller and less prominent than the words above it...
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shedwebadmin
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 28 May 2020 06:00 am said..

Over the border in Herefordshire, and from a Worcestershire born poet

On Seeing the Wind at Hope Mansell, Geoffrey Hill
(1932-2016)

Whether or not shadows are of the substance
such is the expectation I can
wait to surprise my vision as a wind
enters the valley: sudden and silent
in its arrival, drawing to full cry
the whorled invisibilities, glassen towers
freighted with sky-chaff; that, as barnstorming
powers, rammack the small
orchard; that well-steaded oaks
ride stolidly, that rake the light-leafed ash,
that glowing yew trees, cumbrous, heave aside.
Amidst and abroad tumultuous lumina,
regents, reagents, cloud-fêted, sun-ordained,
fly tally over hedgerows, across fields.


https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/geoffrey-hill
Last edited by MarcusRann on 28 May 2020 06:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 28 May 2020 06:08 am said..

Shedwebadmin Margot in full yellow waterproofs, wellies and marigolds. Thanks for that wonderful memory.
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MarcusRann
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 29 May 2020 06:31 am said..

His Own Dear Land (A Song), FW Harvey

Cotswold curving: jagged Malvem
Drawn to God’s great plan.
Shadowy Forest: shining flood-shore:
Where’s best home for a man?

Where’s best home? The plums glow golden
And red in Evesham’s vale
In Minsterworth neither silvery fish
Nor fruit shall ever fail.

Hereford hops twine gracefully
Their tendrils: A poet fills
Long rythms of red ploughland.
Wye’s wandering silver spills.

Blue hill, brown vale, green forest,
Red earth, or golden sand,
Choose! But be sure a man’s best home
Lies in his own dear land.

Wander the wide world over
(For Youth’s the time to roam),
Come back a truer iover
To — wherever was your home.

And if the dream you’re seeking
Shines in this Western. sod ,
Kneel down upon it , and with no speaking
Thank your God!
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MarcusRann
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 30 May 2020 06:28 am said..

Cotswold Ways, Ivor Gurney

One comes across the strangest things in walks:
Fragments of Abbey tithe-barns fixed in modern
And Dutch-sort houses where the water baulks
Weired up, and brick kilns broken among fern,
Old troughs, great stone cisterns bishops might have blessed
Ceremonially, and worthy mounting-stones;
Black timber in red brick, queerly placed
Where Hill stone was looked for – and a manor's bones
Spied in the frame of some wisteria'd house
And mill-falls and sedge pools and Saxon faces;
Stream-sources happened upon in unlikely places,
And Roman-looking hills of small degree
And the surprise of dignity of poplars
At a road end, or the white Cotswold scars,
Or sheets spread white against the hazel tree.
Strange the large difference of up-Cotswold ways;
Birdlip climbs bold and treeless to a bend,
Portway to dim wood-lengths without end,
And Crickley goes to cliffs are the crown of days.
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MarcusRann
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 31 May 2020 11:21 am said..

The Path, Edward Thomas

Running along a bank, a parapet
That saves from the precipitous wood below
The level road, there is a path. It serves
Children for looking down the long smooth steep,
Between the legs of beech and yew, to where
A fallen tree checks the sight: while men and women
Content themselves with the road and what they see
Over the bank, and what the children tell.
The path, winding like silver, trickles on,
Bordered and even invaded by thinnest moss
That tries to cover roots and crumbling chalk
With gold, olive, and emerald, but in vain.
The children wear it. They have flattened the bank
On top, and silvered it between the moss
With the current of their feet, year after year.
But the road is houseless, and leads not to school.
To see a child is rare there, and the eye
Has but the road, the wood that overhangs
And underyawns it, and the path that looks
As if it led on to some legendary
Or fancied place where men have wished to go
And stay; till, sudden, it ends where the wood ends.
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Re: Positivity thread

Nobbler23 31 May 2020 14:41 pm said..

Yesterday I spent a few hours in Hillfield Park, with my mate Davers, self distancing and drinking Aspall's, he was on the girlie Thatcher's, now that is positivity.
Posts: 332  Location: Kingsholm
Nobbler23
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 01 Jun 2020 06:36 am said..

June Evening, Stroud Valley, Sheila Simmonds

Evening light slants over the valley
swallows balance and skim;
their forked tails flick
and the pale bellies gleam
like fish in the stream.

Trees lay down long shadows
on meadows shaven and pale
against dark clouds
white dove wings shiver
like flowers in the river.

A shoulder of hill stands dark
above the clustering town;
the thin spire catches light
and its gold bird glitters
like a jewel in the waters.
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Re: Positivity thread

MarcusRann 02 Jun 2020 10:11 am said..

Over the border in Oxfordshire, and in recognition of our historic French connections,
From the d'Antin manuscript ,Mots, d'Heures, Gousses, Rames, discovered, edited and annotated by Luis d'Antin van Rooten (1906-1973)

20200602_110434.jpg
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