Poetry Friday: The Hug

I thought it’d be nice to introduce some more regular posting, and to take the opportunity to share some things I find inspirational or interesting here.  I love poetry; I read quite a bit of it, mostly for work but am trying to read some more modern work as well, and there’s something truly stunning about the way poets manage to use language in such a concise and glorious way. The Hug It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined Half of the night with our old friend Who’d showed us in the end To a bed I reached …

Poetry Friday: Marital Visit

Marital Visit The odd thing put away in the wrong place – cups and plates back in the cupboard that I always leave out, curtains open on the street that I always keep drawn, remind me of your recent brief progress through here, looking for something in the attic. How could I forget: butter in the fridge, but never eggs, burnt matches everywhere, in spite of the gas lighter, jam jars soaking in water to get the labels off. How typical of you to give the Chinese teapot a last chance to prove itself in company. And look at that …