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A HANDSHAKE FOR A CONVERSATION AND THE ICING ON MY STOLLEN (Episode 63)

A HANDSHAKE FOR A CONVERSATION AND THE ICING ON MY STOLLEN 63 This morning the air is cold and the waxing moon is white against blue. I rather wanted there to be a smell of recent rain in the air even though I am a poet who doesn’t like petrichor, but it is clear and fresh this morning.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a piece of toast on a plate. I say it is indeed that very thing. I also say it is a piece of toast on a plate in which I saw a face whilst I was deciding whether marmite or marmalade would be the appropriate topping one morning. Perhaps a photograph of the stollen from Stollen and Wolle would have made a more appropriate photo for this week’s blog, but I ate that before thinking to capture its image. It was one of the nicest pieces of stollen I have tasted! PodBean Link for those who like to listen Looking back on this week I see there is a linking theme. A first meeting in real life with someone I know, a nearly meeting with someone
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POETRY AND PROSE (Episode 62)

POETRY AND PROSE    This morning the air carries the essence of brown leaves. They are there mixed in with the wet yellow on the ground while a few are still to fall from their twigs. Some are holding their shape, and others are beginning to fold and soften. As the sun rises it brings orange and purple. PodBean Link for those who like to listen Alt text says this week’s photo is: a book on a colourful blanket. I say it is My Humming Bird Father by Pascale Petit on a hexiflat blanket made from left over wool from a vast array of projects and designs by my lovely wife. I loved spreading out the reading of this book over a week and finding different places in which to read it. I saved the final hour of reading for a sunny courtyard in Bakewell while Kath was teaching a knitting workshop at a yarn festival. It felt good to finish reading in the open air. It never ceases to amaze me that I see a film of the book in my head as I read, and I loved watching this one unfold. There is

OH MY GOURD (Episode 61)

 OH MY GOURD   This morning the sky holds the grey fizzle of spent firework stars. There is a stillness to the day and it carries an artificial smell that I cannot quite place.   Alt Text describes this week’s photo as a plate of candy on a blanket. I say it is: 'Pumpkin plate with ceramic leaf and ghost, and pretend gourd celebrating the orange sweets from the trick or treat selection.'  PodBean Link for those who like to listen A fox, fur the colour of honeycomb in my headlights, ran across the road in front of me as we drove home from Evesham on Saturday. It just made it, and I found myself hoping it would be able to reflect on its timing when crossing busy country roads as darkness settles in. If it looks for slightly bigger gaps I think it would do itself well. Thank goodness for good brakes and eyes that notice the flash of something moving from verge to verge.   The three hour drive also featured a range of fireworks which felt like such a

Nigel Kent's Review of ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’

  Nigel Kent's Review of  ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Lif e’  by Sue Finch You know that you’re in the presence of a special talent when you read a collection, and you realise that you have never experienced anything like it before. That was the case for me when I first read Welcome to The Museum of a Life by Sue Finch (Black Eyes Publishing UK, 2024). The collection is split into 7 parts: a foyer, 5 galleries and a gift shop. Each of the galleries contains exhibits, such as a blue apple, a pelican dancing on a patio, a blade of ice and a pound coin, which provide the subjects of anecdotes, sometimes fantastical and sometimes sharply authentic, but always providing the reader with a profound insight into the nature of the human condition. As in a conventional museum, these exhibits are organised into themed galleries. In Gallery One, we meet exhibits on the subject of childhood. It is portrayed as a time of irrational fears, naivety, r

ONLY TIME (Episode 60)

  ONLY TIME   Stones. This morning the slightly warm wind carries the scent of seaside stones. I imagine it blew the smell in overnight when the gusts were strong, but it could be the stones on the paths.   PodBean Link for those who like to listen I have a love of glasses and cups, and often match the drinking vessel to my mood or a particular time of day. I realised this week that I might be overthinking things when I felt myself falter when selecting the glass for my first pint of water of the day. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to be mostly ‘coach’ or mostly ‘poet’! There was quite a conversation going on in my head about whether I was going to start the day by redrafting some poems, writing a blurb or updating the coaching section of my website! In order to break the inertia I decided it would be best to use my ‘special sister’ tankard and crack on with the day. Alt text describes this week’s photo as a group of glasses with writin

A MARMALADE SANDWICH WITH PADDINGTON (Episode 59)

  A MARMALADE SANDWICH WITH PADDINGTON   This morning the air has been blown to freshness by the strong winds, and I love alt text’s suggestion for this week’s photo: A person sitting on a bench with a bear and a cookie! PodBean Link for those who like to listen to this blog. When I heard that a Paddington Bear bench had been installed in Chester I was excited to go and see it. I loved watching the cartoons when I was little and enjoyed the empathy I felt for the little bear as he explored things. Marmalade sandwiches are not really a thing for me – I often eat marmalade on toast, but not in a sandwich. However, it felt a fitting thing to do to make a marmalade sandwich to eat on the bench with Paddington. I took a bite before sitting down so my sandwich matched the shape of his. It was delicious and Kath and I enjoyed sharing it on the way home afterwards. There will be more of these kinds of sandwiches in my days.   Last week’s photo feat

I Don't Know

My thanks to Nigel Kent for inviting me to drop-in and talk about a specific poem from 'Welcome to the Museum of a Life'. There are plenty of drop-ins on Nigel's site so it is well worth having a delve to read what writers say about their work followed by the review of the work by Nigel. Drop-in by Sue Finch This week I’m particularly excited to welcome Sue Finch to reflect upon a poem from her acclaimed collection, Welcome to the Museum of a Life (Black Eyes Publishing, 2024). I Don’t Know , is featured in Gallery 2 in my second full poetry collection, Welcome to the Museum of a Life . This gallery is a gallery of the unspoken which seems fitting for a poem which is about the grief I experienced when my Nan died. I thought of it as a quiet, contemplative poem when I selected it for publication and was surprised and pleased when both Julie Stevens and Susan Richardson engaged with it shortly after the book was released. The poem beg