Christmas in the Good Old Days. Looks a bit of a nightmare to me! But may you all have the Christmas of your dreams.
A message to my followers, especially POETS and poetry-lovers:
I still read a lot of novels but I’m afraid I no longer have the time or the enthusiasm to write reviews of everything. I also read a lot of poetry (more and more, I find, as the years go by) and that will be my focus here on this blog from now on when I don’t have time for a review: sharing poems I like and posting reviews of collections of poems as well as the occasional review of a novel, and posts and shares on other topics that catch my eye.
Here, then, is a Christmas poem by Thomas Hardy, a great favourite of mine both as a novelist and as a poet:
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
‘Now they are all on their knees,’
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
‘Come, see the oxen kneel
‘In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,’
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
Yes, indeed. Hoping it might be so.
If you know a poem or have written a poem you think I might like to post on this blog, or have published a collection of poems you would like reviewed, you are welcome to submit them to me by email. BUT please no more unsolicited novels.