‘Sightings’ a new book of poems from Rose Cook

 

The secret of life, of a happy life, is: leave a little space open for poetry… Massimo Bottura

 

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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 info@greyhenpress.com         £4 plus p&p

 

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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)

 

The Bird Taggers

The Bird Taggers

 

Down by the ley at dusk,

people are working softly.

In the reeds, they have strung a net

from poles, several pluck small birds

from the netting. They carry white bags

into which they place the birds in pairs

for company. These people work swiftly,

talk in low voices. The reed banks hum

with the sound of settling birds.

 

One man comes to explain, how they ring the legs,

track the birds’ flight, to protect feeding grounds,

nest sites. He shows us a young swallow.

It lies meek in his hand, relaxed as a sleeping mouse.

His voice is sure, this is heart work, for the future.

Several white bags hang silently from his belt.

He says not to worry, they have nest boxes.

Once in the dark boxes they will be calm

and in the morning, released.

Soon the birds will fly to Spain, to Africa.

 

from Taking Flight Rose Cook

 

Celebrating International Womens’ Day – Balance for better – and some poetry news 💛

This morning, I was delighted to receive a copy of the latest Sarasvati magazine, with its beautiful cover and filled with poetry. Some of that poetry is mine, from my latest book Hearth and I am very pleased to be included. Many thanks to Indigo Dreams Publishing and editor Dawn Bauling.

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Hearth is available from me or http://www.culturedllama.co.uk/

Sarasvati from http://www.indigodreams.co.uk

Here’s a poem from Sarasvati, chosen from Hearth and offered here for International Womens’ Day:

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When his mother died, Seamus Heaney

wrote a poem about folding a sheet with her.

 

So many days I have lifted sheets

from the line with my own mother.

 

She taught me the way of folding.

Together we would dance to and fro,

 

handing the cloth to her as she made

the final fold, a pat and sigh,

 

that slight smile to meet my eye,

then on to the next.

 

I never wanted it to end.

 

Rose Cook

 

 

 

The year turns…

The Year

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, 18501919

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That’s not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that’s the burden of the year.

 

photo Rose Cook