AWAY WITH WORDS
Aeronwy Thomas, Beryl Myers,
Frances White, Annie Taylor
Aeronwy Thomas, Beryl Myers,
Frances White, Annie Taylor
Just a word - can we do without them! - about the contributors to this anthology: Annie, Beryl, Frances and myself, Aeronwy. We’ve known each other from twenty to forty years - enough time to know each other's works, their strengths and sometime weaknesses.
We meet on a regular basis to encourage each other and make tentative “suggestions” for improvements. When we change or delete a word or line, it is usually in the interests of clarity and simplicity. Of course, we don’t always follow each other’s advice if we feel it might unbalance the rest of the poem. As we dissect each other’s offerings, we take time (lots of it) to communicate family and personal triumphs and disasters.
Over the years, we’ve become like fruit on the vine, maturing nicely in each other’s company, though not yet ripe enough to fall.
Over the years, we’ve become like fruit on the vine, maturing nicely in each other’s company, though not yet ripe enough to fall.
Aeronwy Thomas
Four poets who know what life’s all about share their impressions in this charmingly illustrated volume. Aeronwy Thomas elegantly observes, ‘Until I saw a peacock,/ I thought blue was only/ one colour.’; Annie Taylor wittily contrasts women’s pre-
Leah Fritz
SQUARE PARK
Above the square park
tower blocks and window blinds
obscure her view.
In the morning rain
her dog pulls his lead, heading
for the new saplings.
She follows his path
through the flower beds, searching
for broken tulips.
No one can see how
their redness makes her heart dance
each velvet petal
smuggled in pockets
through the iron perimeter
back to the grey flat.
Fiery butterflies
spread out on her windowsill
above the square park.
Frances White
