Tuesday, 28 July 2009
Yellow flag snapping in the wind at Bayfield Park
Thanks to Michele Leggott for what she has achieved in her role as New Zealand's Poet Laureate for the past two years. I wish her well for whatever she has planned from here on in. She is an admirable woman and I have huge respect for her as a writer and as a person.
And huge congratulations to Cilla McQueen for her appointment as our next Poet Laureate. A well-deserved appointment. I am thrilled to bits for her because she is one of my favourite poets and has been for a very long time now. She is also the nicest person, unaffected and natural; a down to earth lady and ... well, as I said, nice. Funny too with a quick sense of humour and an insightful mind. Plus she's intelligent and interesting, warm and generous. And an awesome poet. She lives in Bluff, Southland now (which for those of you who don't know New Zealand's geography, is right at the bottom of the South Island - as far as you can go before leaving the mainland.)
Meantime I am plodding away in my own fashion churning out words and pleased with what is shaping up from them. Although it is all pretty scattered stuff at the moment, I am beginning to fashion stories and poems from what I am coming up with. Having two full writing days to work with through the week has made all the difference.
Part of my enjoyment has come from reading through old diaries and notes. I am so pleased I kept such things, although some of the material makes me cringe. I was so idealistic when I was young. But then, weren't we all?
Oyster catchers on Bayfield Park - stopping in and sheltering from the storm at sea.
I have been neglecting this blog for some months. I think perhaps I should face facts and accept that it is indeed time to retire this blog...
Calling all poets -: Just a reminder about the poetry competition currently running at poems in the Waiting Room - go HERE for details. Clo...
The mild winter that we are experiencing has everyone remarking. I put out sugar water for the birds, but so far it has o...
Waipounamu (Wall Poem) Hoisting history on his back like a sugar-sack, the swagger strides along greenstone trails. All night the crib...