The secret of life, of a happy life, is: leave a little space open for poetry… Massimo Bottura
I am very happy to announce a new, slim volume of poems
Sightings: Rose Cook published by Grey Hen Press
available from Rose Cook or email email@example.com £4 plus p&p
Here are poems “bright as Lord Krishna’s hair’ that take great joy and delight in the wild-life of sea and shore. In an age of cynicism and depression over climate change these poems are a pure celebration of nature; to quote a line from her poem about building a stone wall, they are like “the heartings” that brim with “tumble and lustre”. A truly uplifting collection.
Gill McEvoy (Rise pub Cinnamon Press)
There are poems here delightfully willing to see through the eyes of the creatures involved – whales, dogs, seals, fish, birds – while the human element is aware of itself as the inevitable record of vision.
And there are poems here which speak directly to the hidden in all of us; losses which remain on the inside brought to sight/light by Cook`s tender language and deft crafting.
With the ‘white sheets’ on the washing line, Cook surrenders to sight, while that ‘single red shirt’ acts as a warning: Look out. And up, and everywhere, all the time, because it`s a good thing. Because it helps.
Sandra Tappenden (Speed pub Salt Modern Poets)
In north Devon
a pantheon of godwits
a prayer of godwits
an omniscience of godwits
pattered about in the brown mud.
They floated rather,
in that drifty way they have.
Beautiful, light godwits
trotting about on mudflats.
Poem and photo by Rose Cook
For the next day of the Post a Poem a Day for 5 days Challenge here is ‘Love and the Flight of Birds’ which is in my poetry collection Taking Flight (Oversteps Books, 2009) and I nominate Shawna Lemay to post one of her poems every day for 5 days and tag someone new each day.
Love and The Flight of Birds
Just lately I find myself
falling in love
Is it their different flight,
their glide, slow soar,
the double bounce and hurry-up
over the tree,
their fragile legs,
enviable wings –
is it about longing?
But then, love is always about longing.
When they visit,
perch first in one tree or another,
I recognise them from their shapes
as lovers do, feel gratitude
that they come to me.
I break bread, tip seed
for these creatures of shattered air,
bones light as leaves,
wonders to gaze on,
then fly again.
poem and photo Rose Cook