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    The Stencil Room
    The Stencil Room
    The Stencil Room
    Ebook64 pages22 minutes

    The Stencil Room

    By David Smith

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    About this ebook

    Ever wish you could just go somewhere else? In this, his third book, David Smith invites you to visit places near and far, journey back into childhood and reflect on the passage of time. This wildly eclectic collection of poetry sings with melancholy, humour, wistful reflection and evocative insight, provoking a wide range of emotions from page to page. Written in a frugal style that makes for a rare accessibility to inner meaning, this is a thought-provoking and immensely readable collection of poems. Includes the poem, Cameraria Ohridella, shortlisted for the Strokestown International Prize at the Strokestown International Poetry Festival, Roscommon, Ireland, 2016.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSixth Element Publishing
    Release dateJul 2, 2016
    ISBN9781311870469
    The Stencil Room
    Author

    David Smith

    David Smith has over 48 years at CABI as Preservation Officer, Curator and latterly Director of Biological Resources and is now retired with the honour of being a CABI Emeritus Fellow. Having a long history of managing a living fungal collection; developing and managing projects on conservation and use of microorganisms; and microbiological regulatory environment particularly, the Nagoya protocol. In past roles as President of the World Federation for Culture Collections, President of the European Culture Collection's Organisation and the UK Federation of Culture Collections he has visited collections in 34 countries and helped set up and enhance collections in 19 countries. He has presented over 160 conference papers and has over 230 publications including 80 peer reviewed papers, 4 books and over 40 book chapters.

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      Book preview

      The Stencil Room - David Smith

      POST CARDS FROM CROATIA

      MONDAY – BRIGHT AFTER RAIN

      DUBROVNIK

      You are encouraged to walk

      the fat embrace of the walls

      A tourist thing.

      One side the sea, an unrecordable blue

      the other, the harbour, cuddled snug.

      Then you notice the roofs, raucous red,

      Unweathered tiles, the guide tells us,

      "A UNESCO gift from Toulouse

      So we cannot complain about the colour."

      Mingling amongst mottled brown originals

      Missed by Serbian shells.

      SUNDAY – HOT

      LANDMINES

      On the fertile plateau above Zadar

      They planted their pernicious tubers.

      After they had gone, Victor impulsively

      Jumped his broken wall

      Delving his fists into red soil, eyes brimming

      As it dribbled through his fingers,

      Then retrieved his tractor

      Hidden in the broom.

      In the village, the tremor slapped

      A careless window, arched a cat’s back

      Ceiling dust fell into wine, gossip

      Stopped in the shop.

      They found him as if asleep

      Cheek in the pillow of his land,

      A hand reaching deep, whilst

      His life,

      Seeped, ochre into ochre.

      GREEK GIFT

      I liked the clip.

      To hold your poems, you said

      You who had not heard of Shakespeare

      Yet wrote like a sage.

      Sometimes I lost my way, maybe

      It was in translation, when I left

      You said, A sob is like a stone in the throat.

      That I understood.

      Your teasing about us (Brits) being

      Painted blue and living in trees whilst

      we strolled through your temples and fountains.

      The poems, like you, have gone

      Sometimes I place my fingers in the jaws

      Just to feel your grip.

      KORRINA’S VERANDA

      This is where we talked

      Her parents sitting just inside the French door

      Smiling, content, she was happy.

      Momma would simply place something in my hand

      I remember a flower-press in

      A walnut case.

      Without direct translation from K

      We relied on facial expressions.

      Bowls

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