Anthology of Yorkshire Poetry

Well, lovely people, Spring has sprung, and with it I feel my strength coming back after months of ill health. Not only that but I am thrilled to bits to have a poem in the Anthology of Yorkshire Poety, published by Valley Press. Click the link and see for yourselves, I am in the midst of exulted company, Carol Ann Duffy, our Poet Laureate to name drop just one. This has been great for my moral, which I have to say has been at an all time low. So, it is onwards and upwards from here.

As to the onwards and upwards I have been working on my second novel, which after dozens of re-writes over a number of years I now consider to be finished. Yeah!

   

Watch this space for updates on my poetry too.

A few weeks ago Simon Armitage came to Barnsley to give a talk about his work. It was one event I could not miss, and what a splendid evening of poetry it was. Of course I am in love with Simon Armitage, and can't understand anyone who isn't.

The other activity that has consumed me of late is 'heir hunting,' and to that end David and I have been trailing various graveyards around Barnsley looking for trace of my relatives. Well we have been very successful. Only two or three miles away from where we live is Elsecar, and there we found the grave of my Great, Great Grandmother and Grandfather, Ellen and Joseph Royston. In the same graveyard, that of Holy Trinity Church, is my Great, Great, Great, Grandmother and Grandfather, Sarah and George Royston, plus children they had, one of which, Walter Royston, is named on the grave as having died in Canada. So looks like I may have relations over there too. In Monk Bretton we found the grave of my Great Grandmother and Granddad, Annie Elizabeth and Arthur Clarke. 

So now I really do feel that I have returned to my gene pool.

I have to say, I did shed a tear. It is a strange feeling meeting the past in this way.

I now know that I come from at least four generations of Barnsley coal miners.

No silver spoon as yet!

I am now going to practice my pitch for my poetry which I will put before publishers in the near future.

I hope all is well with you, and that you are feeling the wonderful effect of Spring too.

I promise to write again soon to keep you up to date with my life around Barnsley, and beyond.

Love and hugs,

Jane x

Out for a Spin in West Wicomb

Last week passed quietly, in glorious sunshine. I took a walk in Kelsey park, treated myself to an ice cream from the little van in the park, and walked up as far as the Chinese garage. I hadn't realized that there is a butcher's shop in the little shopping precinct in Wickham Road. And a couple of nice looking cafe bars. I shall have to investigate them further. My exercise over, I settled to my cello practice, and relaxed with a good book, or two.

Poetry is one of my passions, and when I am not writing (which has been most of the summer) I am reading. At the moment it is Carol Anne Duffy's book, The Bees, and Rainer Maria Rilke's sonnets to Orpheus, translated by Martyn Crucefix. Two totally different books, both brilliant in their own ways.

Today I have been out and about with Joanne, a mother and daughter day, lovely. She took me to look at a car, which she took out for a spin, and decided to buy. It was all very exciting, she had been talking about buying a new car for ages. And I recon she deserves it because she works so hard, and in such a worthwhile job. Anyway, we had to celebrated of course, so we went to La Racasse (I think that is how you spell it) in Beckenham. We had a glass of bubbly, and lunch, and chatted for about an hour.

I have spent the rest of my day doing my cello practice, and making videos for Empower Network. We have high expectations for our little enterprise, it is certainly keeping me busy, and we get to meet such lovely people.

And now I am going to watch the last night of the proms, before bed. It's church in the morning, but I'm not playing the organ this week, so it isn't so stressful. And then I shall meet up with Jo again.

So, only a little adventure today, but I am tired so will say 'goodnight.' I hope your weekend is full of smiles.

Love and hugs,
Jane x

It's a lovely car, isn't it?

I Found Me A Bentley!

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 What a great week I have had. I had chance to pull out all the stops at Beckenham Methodist Church, when I was treated to spend an hour trying out my skills on the big pipe organ. It was a bit scary, but David, one of the regular organists, explained the ins and outs of the levers (stops) and what went on with 'feet'. He then left me to it. I was able to practice a few hymns and provide a bit of background music for the coffee shop clientele, but I don't think I am ready to be unleashed in front of a congregation. I'm happy with the electronic Yamaha that I play at Clock House. The experience was great, though, and I can go and play some more whenever I want.

After my volunteer job at the coffee shop, on Monday, I decided to walk back home via Kelsey Park. It was delightful, full of green, green, and smelling of excited cytoplasm. Birds were twittering, squirrels were darting about, and wood pigeons shyly strutted in the shade of tall trees. It was the stuff that poems are made of.

 So, speaking of poetry, what do you think to Carol Ann Duffy's poem for the Coronation celebration in Westminster Abbey. I thought it was a lovely poem, brilliantly crafted. And I liked it even better when I saw it written down.
The Crown

The crown translates a woman to a Queen –
endless gold, circling itself, an O like a well,
fathomless, for the years to drown in – history's bride,
anointed, blessed, for a crowning. One head alone
can know its weight, on throne, in pageantry,
and feel it still, in private space, when it's lifted:
not a hollow thing, but a measuring; no halo,
treasure, but a valuing; decades and duty. Time-gifted,
the crown is old light, journeying from skulls of kings
to living Queen.

                                           Its jewels glow, virtues; loyalty's ruby, blood-deep; sapphire's ice resilience; emerald evergreen;
the shy pearl, humility. My whole life, whether it be long
or short, devoted to your service. Not lightly worn.

Of course I may be a bit bias, but Carol Ann Duffy was one of my mentors way back in 1993, along with Mathew Sweeney, both excellent poets.

If you missed watching the service with all it's pageantry, music and fashions, then I urge you to pop on You Tube and select one of the many recordings made.

So, after a relaxing day at home with the Queen, my cello and a few episodes of The Tudors, on TV, I slept soundly, and was up at the crack of dawn this morning to do a bit of housework and get ready for another adventurous day.

10.30 a.m. Coffee Morning at Abbeyfield, where I was invited to offer a rendering of one of my poems, and talk a little about my book, Tears from the Sun - A Cretan Journey. And after that I went to the Jolly Woodman with my new friends from the Beckenham Ladies Choir, to fill in an hour before heading of to Chiselhurst where we gave an afternoon concert.

As you can see I had an attentive audience at Abbeyfield.

And then to the stuff that dreams are made of. As we came out of the residential home, full of tea, biscuits, and Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend (part of our repertoire), I couldn't help taking advantage of a photo with this parked Bentley. You may not know this, but this car is on my vision board, I just had to touch it, very lightly of course so as not to leave a smudge. Personally, I think we look good together!
Well, dream the music and the tune follows! Dum-de-dum! Bye for now, I'm off to my kitchen to sizzle up some sausages.

May the sun be shining on you wherever you are.

Bye for now, love Jane x