Poetry is a beautiful thing, I love it. I love how the images unfurl like spirals in my head, causing a kaleidoscope of colourful words to paint themselves on my page.
It’s a magical feeling that’s comes and goes. No sooner have I created a rainbow bubble of verbose joy, so it busts and the feeling is no more.
Reminds me of something else I enjoy in a similar way, although that is thankfully more accessible!
I was thinking (oops, that thinking thing is hard) today of the fleeting creativity I suffer with, it’s so tantalising when it approaches and so frustrating when I don’t have it, also annoyingly, I can’t just make it happen. During these frustrating thoughts it occurred to me that I don’t read as much poetry as I used to.
I still indulge in flurries of flicking through my WordPress reader and some blogs I read almost daily… but I used to read the classics, the masters, much more frequently.
So, I’ve made a pledge to myself. I’m going to read a poem a day, or find the time for a poem a day and a reflection on how it makes me feel in that moment…
… and maybe if I find the time I’ll read a few more.
I feel it’s a kind of mindfulness, a soul food.
So I ask you this dear reader.
Who would you recommend I read and why?
