We had a super Poetry meeting today - only two members missing - and a varied and interesting variety of poems. Thank you to those who gave me ideas = I read a few of them and they were well received. I would have read more of your suggestions except that I had already come across Dylan Thomas's 'Poem in October' (It was my thirtieth year to heaven) and I just had to read that.
Thomas - that absolute master with words - didn't disappoint.
H read one of my favourite poems - Shelley's 'On a favourite cat drowned in a tub of goldfishes'. How I loved that poem as a child - my father would read it to me night after night; it was always the poem I wanted to hear. Every time I hear it now it reminds me of him and the happy childhood I was lucky enough to have. Shelley was only thirty when he died - one wonders how his poetry would have developed had he lived longer.
Tess had her long walk with friend S while we were at poetry, so she happily ate her tea and settled down for the evening. Everything on our television is in one way or another about Brexit and really I (and many others like me) have no desire to listen to any more until common sense prevails. So I shall now go and trawl through iplayer to see if I can find something light and interesting to watch. I have run out of reading matter sadly.