I'm not a man who enjoys poetry
But at times, the beauty of a phrase whether spoken or written can grab me around the neck and almost throttle me with its beauty or power.
A verse in that fake Eurovision ballad Husavik - My home town captured my imagination just the other day
" Where the mountains sing through the screams of seagulls "Isn't that a fantastic description of an Iceland we all have in our imaginations?
When I was a child I loved a tiny poem Little Fish by D H Lawrence for exactly the same
" The tiny fish enjoy themselves
In the sea
Quick little splinters of life,
their little lives are fun to them
in the sea"
" Quick little Splinters of life"
A beautiful description again, economical and bang on the money
I borrowed a book from the hospice last week and found myself reading it last night.
It was a collection of " Best Loved Poems" illustrated by Isabelle Brent
I was unexpectedly melancholic, a moment's revisiting of old wounds and the feelings around them, and the book provided me with the escape that I needed
This poem by Emily Dickinson lingers in the mind
" A word is dead
When it is said,
I say it just
Begins to live