Many of the poems I find myself gravitating to have at least one foot touching nature: Robley Wilson’s poem ‘A Pleasure Tree’ has both feet firmly planted in nature.

A Pleasure Tree
by Robley Wilson

In the tree that bears gold
apples, the starlings keep
drunken balance. Seven apples
remain, spared by windstorms
that have savaged orchards
down to bare limbs and torn
fields into windrows. A marvel:
Seven apples have not fallen,
but hang in these March rains
like brown jewels, inside them
the pulp turning to raw wine
amber and ruby and cold as air.

================

Ben Barton features in a BBC short film: No one reads poetry.
The film discusses the lack of poetry readership today and how most poets must juggle a busy day job with creative work.

================

Long before there were words to write, poetry was shared orally and not since the late fifties and the beat movement have we seen poetry spoken as often as we see it now. I for one am thankful for the resurgence of spoken poetry and YouTube.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLk_Q3Cq2Ns&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&hl=en]

================

Stay tuned, it’s National Poetry Month the whole of April!