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~ poetry in the land, the land in poetry

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Tag Archives: poetry

Meadow : the Book

17 Tuesday Jan 2017

Posted by somewhere nowhere in meadow poems, Uncategorized

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meadow poetry book, nature poetry, poetry

It did take quite a long time, I’ll admit – life somehow gets in the way – but the book of poetry is now complete! And while it’s not the right time for real meadow flowering, it feels good to bring a touch of summer to the dreary days of winter.

meadow book shot.jpg

I left the meadow with notebooks full of sketches and scribbles: notes, observations, poem fragments, musings. Then last year I took a week out to go through the notebooks and compile poems. In the process I became re-immersed in the meadow, this time from afar, and I was struck by a simplicity and richness of just being among the flowers, day after day. I hope this has come through in this collection.

 

I have become a flower watcher
brought to my knees to my belly
lie flat lie still
here with the touch
of light and weather
and the truth of daisies
tracking the sun

 

The book is just over 60 pages long, and has been printed in a limited edition print run of 160. The poems are at its heart, and  there’s a section on the history of the meadow as well the collection of flower names dreamed up by people who visited while I was there. Each book is hand finished with hand colouring on the beautiful illustration (done by the brilliant artist Kate Gilman Brundrett).

If you would like a copy (£10 plus £1.50 p&p) please follow this link to the shop page on the somewhere nowhere website.

oxeye daisy in meadow

 

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A new word

20 Monday Jul 2015

Posted by somewhere nowhere in meadows, nature, poetry, writing

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learning new words, poetry, poetry blog, poetry in the land

A brief post …

I have learnt a new word from the bunting in the meadow. Someone, anonymously, left a message and introduced me to the word ‘petrichor’. Thank you!

bunting in the meadow

Petrichor means:

a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long spell of dry weather

I don’t, however, know what decidium means. Any suggestions?

And now, poetry

05 Sunday Jul 2015

Posted by somewhere nowhere in cumbria, meadows, poetry

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friends of the lake district, harriet fraser, john clare, nature writing, poetry

John Clare quoteThe whole point of being in the meadow, for me, is to write poetry. Of course there are loads of benefits that come with being there, and all of them, so far, positive.

My two days there last week left me in a state I can only describe as ‘meadow-mind’. I slowed down, I forgot about roads, emails, anything beyond the meadow really. High Borrowdale Valley is like a cocoon, and I was cosy. I entered a slumber-like frame of mind and wandered in the meadows, along the track and beneath the trees, down to the river. I walked in rain, in full sun, in mist and in moonlight. I let the valley seep into me. I watched chimney sweep butterflies setting their black against the green. I traced a bee’s pollen-heavy journey through a patch of white clover. I wondered what the birds were saying, and which birds they were. When it’s blazing hot, their song becomes quiet – when the evening or a cool mist draws in, they chatter incessantly.

My own poetry is forming. My notebook is filling. I will work on it next week when I will be in the meadow once again. I will also be exploring ways that the meadow flowers might contribute to the poetry. Could they write for themselves, and if they could, how?

For now, I wanted to share a poem that emerged during the open meadow day on July 1st. It was a day of sunshine, heat, storms and discoveries, and the sharing of poetry both old and new. We had a bit of a play as well, and did a ‘black out’ exercise, also known as ‘found poetry’. From the same piece of original writing, several very different poems emerged. Each one has its own poignancy. This one was uncovered by Jane Exley. 'Found Poetry' in the meadow

‘Me a do double u’    by jane exley

gather three weeks
and spread them with rain.

There a hay crop and clovers grew,
followed by betony,
a long richness of strength –

depend on each flower
depend on the complex
beauty of life,
precious.

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recent posts

  • Meadow : the Book
  • Working offline
  • Let’s not get too romantic
  • After the cut
  • Process
  • A written meadow
  • A new word
  • New Names
  • Open Pages
  • What’s in a name?

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