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Kaleidoscope
Kaleidoscope
Kaleidoscope
Ebook105 pages38 minutes

Kaleidoscope

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This is a lovely collection of poems consisting of observations of nature, reminiscences, views on topical matters and everyday subjects, experiences, sensations, ideas and emotions; a true and fascinating profile of a country loving person. The reader will immediately be able to identify with these subjects and appreciate the sentiments so clearly expressed.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 16, 2012
ISBN9781780690551
Kaleidoscope
Author

Elizabeth Love

Elizabeth Love has found a niche with her imaginative writing about Cumbria with first, a collection of short stories called 'Time Lapse' and second, 'Kaleidoscope, a poetry profile': a comprehensive book of poems describing creatures in the wild as well as domestic, the countryside around where she lives plus personal reflections. This latest publication, set in the picturesque village of Wetheral a few miles out of Carlisle, will hold the reader's interest with its simplicity, drama and romance.

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    Kaleidoscope - Elizabeth Love

    Foreword

    Kaleidoscope is not a pretentious collection of poems. They are vignettes, told simply, but covering a wide variety of rural subjects including well observed descriptions of landscape, people and events – the latter either local or national.

    Elizabeth Love has an eye and feeling for place and there are colourful narrative passages of Lakeland Life and Scenes, e.g. the Ploughman and the Rescue. There are some meticulous details of the natural world.

    Tentative, almost fragile drawings, by the author illustrate the text.

    She uses variation of meter, blank verse; intermittent rhymes and staccato couplets stress the urgency in Binns Sale. Sometimes she breaks into prose.

    Kaleidoscope is a worthy title for a local anthology-Cumbrian Reflections of some charm.

    Mary E Burkett

    The Promise Of Spring

    Come soon, spring, soon, so that we may see

    The budded hedgerows and blossom on the cherry tree

    Blow out, cold winds, till all their force is spent

    And let through, the warming rays of sun, resplendent

    That first, we see appear, the heralders of spring

    The flake white snowdrop, golden crocus bursting

    The sapling growing outwards to maturity

    And tender stalks of rhubarb, there will surely be

    Migraters re-appearing to greet each breaking day

    Get out of bed, it’s spring they seem to say.

    And I will ride to Wetheral Green again

    To wander in the wooded glade and leafy country lane

    The trees are prettiest there when first unfolding

    Flowerets and myriad bunches in miniature unveiling

    Foliaged filigree, the birch, in finest webs of lace

    And sticky chestnut buds, like fluted fans to grace

    While down by the river, nature’s flowers abound

    The Celandine, Aconite, Bluebell and incessant sound

    Of running water, lit here and there by filtering light

    And the Green, a silhouette by the drawing in of night.

    A Little Piece of Heaven – Carlisle Cemetery

    Patterns everywhere; patterns within patterns

    Patterns in forms and colours

    Geometric, haphazard and three dimensional patterns

    In paths, avenues, borders, trees and flowers.

    Inside this large enclosure, stones, like guardians

    Mark the passage of the years, as milestones along the road

    Reaches – which go out beyond the sea of time.

    Here, through these circuitous cinder tracks

    The garland bearers seek their piece of hallowed ground

    Intangibly salving the living and the dead

    Where truth is in abiding love and memory

    And thatch of lives are bound in secret union.

    I feel and watch the glory of all nature here

    As rebirth stalks the enmity of winter

    Winning through in stealthy generation. Over all

    To lay a flowery flush of yellow come Epiphany

    Cascades in intricacies on every bough and branch

    Symmetrically, the cultured borders line the avenues

    Where now, cathedral high, the walks are canopied

    While everywhere, the grossness of majestic evergreens

    Tower in sharp relief of muter tones.

    A masquerade of roses throughout the summer days

    Flush into autumn’s glowing shades

    And frost’s furry fingers touch and breezes blow

    Flutterings, scattered on the verdant floor, where

    Nuts and needles, crabs and acorns, seeds

    And salvaged leaves are hammock-slung and wheeled

    In trundled barrow loads along the routes.

    My diary notes those halcyon days of painting flowers

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