It’s a gorgeous thing when a poem arrives at a felicitous rhyme, a choice word that pops up by happenstance.
I've been thinking about spelling.
There are more of them all the time. How do you win them? How do you CHOOSE the winner?
A hive of activity, that’s what it’s been here in the last two weeks. A veritable hive.
We ‘did’ Frost for O level.
Poetry history is taking place in Perthshire. It's doing this in glorious sunshine, with leaves brandishing all the shades of Autumn and rowan berries gleaming like jewels.
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