Saturday, September 25, 2010

Walking in woods.

Walking in the woods, my first kick through autumn leaves this year, towards the sea where the waves pull at pebbles on the wide beach, and in my head thoughts of poetry. It is National Poetry Day on 7th October and I will be working in a school in Norfolk and also doing an open event for the Norfolk Children's book group in Aylesham in the evening. ( You can get detail from Marilyn at the Children's Book Centre in Norfolk)
The National Poetry people want facebook users to change their status updates to lines from their favorite poem on 7th October. Easier said than done. 
Walking through the woods, trying to think of poems that I love and what it is I love about words and the way they can fall together or be crafted together to make stories, to make people, to make places. More often than not it is lyrics I remember more than poems. I read poetry but the while the taste of the words in the mind's eye is strong at the time my memory can not always hold them, where as songs haunt me.
The first time I found Yeats's Stolen Child was through song, The Waterboys wonderful song and the way the words ran and rang was wonderful and fit so well with my wood walking. Perhaps these would be the lines I would choose?

Where the wandering water gushes,
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star, 
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;


  1. I'm very fond of that poem also. Loreena McKennet did a lovely version. I always like to pretend that I was that stolen child, growing up among the fairies.

  2. I love Yeats. His "Song of Wandering Aengus" has also been set to music. I love singing it. The only version of "Stolen Child" I know is Loreena McKennitt's
    I shall have to see if I can find The Water Boys' version. The picture of the wave is almost abstract -- an interesting study in whites and greys

  3. Looking forward to seeing you in Norfolk. I went down to Long Melford and looked at your work. It was absolutely inspiring. And I just love my new copy of Ice Bear.

  4. I remember lyrics more easily too, but occasionally there are poems that make a mark. Trouble is, trying to find a favourite one is like trying to pick your favourite book... too many are favourites!!

    I love Yeats' poem When I am Old that finishes with the line about Love... and hid his face amid a cloud of stars. Such a gorgeous image.