George Meredith...

Born in Portsmouth in 1828, George Meredith was an English novelist and poet.  Here, I am going to concentrate on Meredith's poetry.  A very prolific poet, Meredith wrote on many subjects, and here I will focus on his works about nature.

Another Poem in the Dorset Dialect...

Just over a year ago, I posted a poem from an old book I found online.  The book was called Poems in the Dorset Dialect, and contained some fascinating works,  The poem I posted was called False Friends-Like; here is Our Abode in Arby Wood.

Weep You No More...

People pass away every day, and of course, any death is sad, but the world of English show-business has been suffering from a very sad spell recently.  From the world, we have lost David Bowie, John Bradbury, and Lemmy.  Two greatly respected stars of stage and screen, Alan Rickman and Brian Bedford have gone too.  Finally, a great disc jockey and television presenter, Ed "Stewpot" Stewart.

Poetry of Northumberland...

Over the past months, I have published poetry from - and about - various parts of the British Isles, sometimes in a local dialect.  This time, we will look at a couple of poems, and poets, from the county of Northumberland.

A Rural Retreat...

Time for some more poetry, I think.  This offering, however, will not refer to specific places or areas of the UK, but to one of the most wonderful aspects of British life - the countryside!  Here are a couple of short poems for your enjoyment!

Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed...

It has been a while since I have published any poetry.  So far, the poetic offerings have not included any about Wales, and while this is not ABOUT Wales, it was written by the man considered to be the greatest of all Welsh writers and poets.

The Haggis...

I know I've described it before on here (and most of you probably know what it is, anyway), but a haggis is a traditional Scottish dish.  It is made from the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep, mixed with oatmeal, onion, and spices, and cooked in a sheep's stomach.  Sounds yucky, I know, but it is pretty good!

A Child of the Troubles...

I have covered - albeit just a little - some of the political unrest in Northern Ireland over the last few decades.  Without adding anything, here is a poem :

Norham Castle...

Probably not as familiar to you as many other English castles, Norham Castle was actually very important historically.  Overlooking the River Tweed on the border between England and Scotland, it was one of the strongest border castles, and was attacked by the Scots more than any other.

St. Robert's Cave...

Near the River Nidd in North Yorkshire is a small cave.  When I say "small", it is too small for a grown man to lie straight, yet it has a stone bed.  It was the home of Robert of Knaresborough (1160-1218), otherwise known as St. Robert, although never officially canonised.

Poems about London...

It has been a while since I posted some verse about the great capital city, so I think it's time for some more.  London Bells (which seems to be the basis of the nursery rhyme, Oranges and Lemons)is from sometime during the 17th century, with The Cries of London from a century later.  The authors of both are unknown.

I Hope You Understand...

... what I am about to write!

I have covered some poems before, but this time, it is going to be a little different.

I picked up a PDF of a book by William Barnes.  It is from 1864, and is called Poems in the Dorset Dialect.  While this is not a foreign language, it may appear so at first!  The thing is that you will probably have to read it aloud to get it!  If you do understand - even if it's only small parts of it - it should make you smile.

Yes, this is the way that some people speak (or used to speak, anyway)...

Composed upon Westminster Bridge...

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 was a poem by William Wordsworth..  It is the first of two poems about London posted here today.  The second is William Blake's London.

The Banks o' Doon...

Robert Burness was born in Alloway, Ayrshire, on January 25, 1759.  Young Robert was one of seven children, and was the eldest son.  The name probably won't mean anything to you, but if I tell you he later shortened the name to "Burns", that will be more familiar!