My Muse

I am sure all writers are asked how they get their ideas for stories or poems. Unless you have experienced the wonderful nudge from your own muse it is difficult to explain. My muse sits on my shoulder and suddenly I am writing again full of enthusiasm. From my Denagerie of Poems:

My muse leads me a merry dance, she draws me on and then perchance,

drops a thought right in my brain and I am set to write again.

She is a comfort and elusive, mostly comfort.  Back in wind torn Dorset once more I a set to write and edit another sift of poetry in readiness for my second book of poems.  Best wishes to all writers and may your muse be kind to you.

Denny Bradbury

Jubilee

Longevity in itself is not something so worthy of note, but dedication to duty and stability may be seen as priceless in a world so heavily influenced by media hype with its resultant dedication to superficial ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ empty vessels.  Churchill maintained that although democracy was not perfect it was a jolly sight better than the alternatives.  (A democratic monarchy saves us from so much.) To this end I celebrate with the Queen and all fellow peace loving citizens of these islands and wish everyone a happy celebration of the good in our society.

Denny Bradbury

Derbyshire

Last week I spent some time in the Peak District. It was a new experience for me and now I see what everyone else sees there, amazing scenery, wonderful stately homes, history in abundance and last week especially, glorious weather. I am a Derbyshire convert, now I know how Elizabeth Bennet felt when she saw Darcy’s home and its setting in Pride and Prejudice. Do go if you get the chance and order the weather in advance!

Denny Bradbury

Ruba’iyat of Omar Khayyam

From the first time I read Fitzgerald’s version of this ancient Persian text I was hooked and wanted to know more. The translation by Peter Avery and John Heath-Stubbs is probably more accurate. One part spoke to me quite recntly:

Oh heart since time’s passing grieves you

And your pure spirit so unseasonably leaves the body

Sit on the green, spend a few days in happiness

Before the green grass springs from your dust.

Best wishes  Denny Bradbury

Lost Meadows

It is at this burgeoning time of year that my thoughts turn to nature and how we never quite get the balance right for the survival of the planet. The more we take and don’t put back the more nature has to struggle to re balance.

Light flooded meadows brimming with sweet honeyed flowers bedappled with dew;                                                                                                                                       Butterflies bumblebees damosels too drunkenly stagger in nectar filled hue; How is this image today now expressed as fields drunk with pesticides only are dressed?                                                                                                                                  Mistakes of the past rear up now to haunt as we pass by blindly ignoring the facts For so long around that we look but don’t see how commerce has left barren acres of tracks;                                                                                                                           Many have now seen the light and are planting wild flower seeds right next to the wheat;                                                                                                                        Bumblebees, butterflies, damosels sweet fly up and around in blissful nectar retreat;                                                                                                                                                We have all been guilty by absence, design or merely a shake of the head in resigned                                                                                                                                  Acceptance of what men in dark suits were planning to plant next to burgeoning shoots                                                                                                                                                Now as we look with fresh eyes do we see the reinstatement of the humble and wonderful bee.

Denny Bradbury