The Tangled Branch Discussion Forums

Nobody told me it was World Poetry Day today, or I'd have thought of something. Probably something like this... Whirled Poetry Day is a strange event, a day to collect all your verses, good and bad alike, and do something with them. Tie them up into a cloth,  like preparing a steamed pudding, if you...

Poetry, like true storytelling, never really dies.  But, like Global Warming and Ice Ages, it is a cyclic phenomenon.  Just as seeds and roots can lie dormant but still potent until the conditions are right for growth.  Just like Spring and Neap tides know their time and place and need no man-made r...

Here's the background.  My grandaughter is five and half now, and she has a little deaf friend at school, and Alma acts as a translator for her.  They doubtless have private jokes about the teachers.  The friend has recently been given cochlear implants and although a fluent little signer is finding...

For me the most engaging part is the unexpected survival and daily resurrection of the flower (that's when you really got my attention), so I was surprised that your last stanza returned to simple sweetness to instead of developing and finalizing that concept   Trago, All feedback is appeciated. It...

Sometimes we let the guard down

The buttercup lasted three days, then shed all its leaves in a little yellow explosion when I went to top up the water.

Gyppo

I may be over-reaching but I get the sense of someone who has perhaps read too much into a situation, perhaps overestimated a friendship and built their own interpretation of it.  Only to find they were maybe wrong, and then to hear whispers which further fuel the doubt. Drowning in a sea of your ow...

Silent words "Grandad, I've bought you a flower." A solitary buttercup, bright yellow, with a scant half inch of stem. Presented with great solemnity. I fashioned an impromptu vase, utilising a bright blue bottle cap. Remembering saucers of daisy heads cosseted by my Mum. She was clearly delighted,...

I really like this.  Lovely imagery and a clear sense of that 'other' which one sometimes feels when immersed in nature. I've watched foxes at play, two cubs mock-fighting and chasing, learning their deadly trade in the moonlight, oblivious to my presence.   I've also seen a pair making their courts...

"Psychic vampires" -- great phrase.  Hope I never meet one.  But then, on reflection I know I have. You see it in some celebrities.  They have nothing of their own, no real substance at all, no true sense of self.  They feed on constant praise and adulation in order to stay 'high'.  Which is why th...

indar wrote: ↑

Mon May 14, 2018 12:58 am

Oh wait, half the wedding is Yank

Seems a nice girl though.  But we Brits are such a mongrel race anyway.