If you read my previous blog about Marian Keyes then you’ll know I like her, I like her a lot.  I was foaming at the mouth with excitement when The Brightest Star in the Sky was released.

Having read every one of Keyes’ books I know what I’m in for, tears of both laughter and sorrow.   However, a while after I’ve read each book I only ever remember the funny bits.  I hear women who have given birth say a similar thing, “Oh, you forget the pain.”  I’ve recently been watching Channel 4’s One Born Every Minute, a documentary set on a labour ward and quite frankly I don’t believe them.  I digress, back to the book – you know you’re in for a large smattering of darkness when the epigraph contains a quote from Leonard Cohen’s song Anthem;

‘There is a crack, a crack in everything,
It’s how the light gets in.’

This is preceded by the poem Little Red Riding Hood, containing some less than jovial words;

Once upon a time
I was you
Keeping secret
Being True

What happened child
Of golden hair
What happened then
I wasn’t there….

And now you stand
And stare at me
Your frock is stained
Your knees are green

How do I hold your hand and stay
How do I heal
That death
In May….*

‘Right then Ms Keyes, I see you’re playing hard ball this time.  Lets ‘ave it’ I say to myself, whilst rolling up my sleeves and taking a quick pull on the gas and air.

It is hard to tell who or what the narrator is, first thoughts drift towards it being a ghost, but is it good or bad?  All is revealed later on in the book, so for now we’ll call it the ‘Presence’ and forget all about who or why.

The Presence has been given the address of a large, red brick, Georgian house in Dublin 8.  Having found the property, the Presence is dismayed to find that the house has been divided into four flats, with lots of people buzzing in and out of the building.  It is now up to the Presence to find out which one of the occupants it is destined for.  Through this clever medium we are introduced to the book’s characters.

On the top floor lives Katie, late thirties, works in PR for a record company.  She has a rich, useless and unreliable boyfriend called Conall.  Her friends and family don’t like him, they don’t believe it will last and neither does she.

Lydia lives below, she is a Dublin City cab driver, all sharp edges and a tongue to match.  She shares the flat with two homesick Polish guys called Andrei and Jan.  They find her to be vile and obnoxious.  They call her ‘the evil pixi’ and even have a nickname for her boyfriend – ‘Poor F**ker.’  Lydia doesn’t help matters; since she moved in she has found it highly amusing to put ‘sk’ on the end of words and uses the names of Polish cities as often as possible.  Gdansk replaced ‘thanks’, she’s decided that Minsk makes you sound very peed off, and Irkutsk “you could scare the bejayzus out of someone if you said it right!”

Below them lives lovely, old and wise Jemima and Grudge the dog.  They have just received the news that her foster son, Grudge’s hated nemesis, Fionn is coming to stay for a couple of weeks.  I’m with Grudge on this one – Fionn is annoying and rather surplus to the book’s requirement.

Matt and Maeve, a handsome young married couple, live in the bottom of the house.  The Presence is immediately struck by the obvious love that this pair have for each other, and how happy they seem to be in their daily routine.  Which involves curling up on the sofa together, telling each other of their ‘Daily Act of Kindness’ and writing in their individual notebooks a list of reasons to be cheerful.   It is only after days of observation that the Presence senses that all may not be as well as it seemed.

This book races along at a quick pace, dipping in and out of the individuals’ lives, never getting too bogged down with one plot.  There is the mystery of what this Presence is and who it has been sent to visit.  There are also the threads and secrets of the relationships past and present to work out.  All these factors make this an easy read.

So…is the Marian Keyes super-fan within me satisfied with The Brightest Star in the Sky?  Not entirely.

I struggled to warm to the people in this book, probably due to there being so many of them.  The delicate subjects are broached with Keyes’ impeccable attention to detail and eagerness for “getting it right.”  Given the nature of the subjects covered (no plot ruining from this book reviewer) it’s not really surprising that there are only a few laughs to be had within these pages.  Most of the humour comes through Lydia’s feisty character – so ‘Gdansk’ for that Lydia.

In summary, this is a good read but I would rate all of her previous books far higher.

* to read Christina Reihill’s poem in full follow this link to Sparkle’s poetry group.

First of all let me just tell you that I’m a HUGE fan of Marian Keyes. I have read all her books, read every* interview, I make sure I see any telly programme she appears on and I subscribe to her monthly blog. Have I convinced you yet? If not, then you should also know that I always buy her books in hardback as soon as they’re released, because I’m just not willing to wait until the paperback lands in the supermarket for 3 quid (Your local book shop needs YOU).

Keyes’ new book The Brightest Star in the Sky is beautifully presented, all spangle and sparkle with its shiny gold and pink cover, girly in the extreme. But be warned, it doesn’t exactly ‘do what it says on the tin.’ If you’ve read any of her books before you’ll know that this standard form and that each book has dark depths within its pages. You would also agree to go on a protest march (in the style of Father Ted and Dougal, bearing signs with the words: DOWN WITH THIS SORT OF THING, plastered across them) against the view that this is “just chick-lit”. Yes it is “lit” and it her books certainly do contain “chicks”. However, this cap just does not fit or if this is chick-lit, then everything else I’ve read in that genre is seriously sub-standard. She says her books are “a comedy about something serious”. So I’m sticking with that.

Rachel’s Holiday takes us into the world of drug and alcohol addiction, the trauma of going through rehab and how this affects the sufferer’s family. This Charming Man tackles domestic abuse and its presence in all walks of life. Anybody Out There? is about coping with the heartbreaking death of a much loved partner, the grief, the guilt and the anger at being the one left behind.

You’d think all of these books would be miserable and as hard as hell to read – here is where the magic of Marian Keyes comes in. All of her work is hilarious, I’m talking laugh out loud, and possibly do a little wee, funny. When tackling the dark bits no punches are pulled, they’re hard hitting and sometimes disturbing.

“Okay, so this doesn’t exactly sound like a laugh a minute, but in my experience the best comedy is rooted in darkness. All ten of my books are different but share a common theme of people who are In The Bad Place, and who achieve some form of redemption. I’ve been In The Bad Place myself many’s the time, which wasn’t very pleasant while it was happening but has since come in very handy for writing about it.” – Marian Keyes

Her ‘heroes’ and ‘heroines’ are lovable and realistic characters, portrayed in such a way that you feel as though you’re walking along side them during the story. The ‘villains’ are suitably heinous and just as in life it is not always immediately obvious who is the baddie. As Marian Keyes casts her magical story telling spell the pages really do turn themselves.

The main focus of her books tends to be strong females who manage to triumph over some of the worst circumstances that life can hurl at you. Yet, I’ve a very strong feeling that this is not why people look to her as an inspirational woman – nor is it the fact the she is a best-selling millionaire with an adoring husband. I think it has more to do with the fact that she is so open about her severe clinical depression and her daily struggle with alcoholism. These conditions are rife in our society yet we’re not entirely comfortable with the possibility of being both a ‘super-achiever’ and a ‘struggler’.

She finds life hard going, yet she is here – alive if not always kicking, but when she does kick it’s with both boots! Her strengths are there for all to see, she’s funny, clever, sexy, successful and yet she’s breaking ‘celebrity’ form by being honest about her not-so-great-side. In a recent interview in The Independent she says, “I write for me and I need to feel hopeful about the human condition”, a message that shines through all her books loud and clear.

If you fancy a giggle, follow this link to the ‘Life According to Marian Keyes’ videos. Here you’ll hear her comical observations on several subjects such as plastic surgery, losing your passport and saying goodbye after a dinner party. I really like the one called ‘The Credit Crunch’ – save money on therapy, get it free by “manufacturing a spurious fight with your mother about…gravy or slippers…anything and just have a good auld mad, auld ranty, auld shout…that’ll get rid of loads of frustration…and the thing is, she’ll have to forgive because she’s your mother.” Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be trying this one anytime soon though.

Pop back in few of days to read my book review of The Brightest Star in the Sky.

* Disclaimer: As Marian Keyes books are published in 37 languages it’s only fair to tell you that I haven’t read “every” interview, I’m using this word with poetic license – my grasp of the German and Vietnamese languages is not what it was in my previous lives

The great thing about meeting up with, we’ll call him, ‘Drake’ was getting a male perspective on things and I was able to give him a woman’s point of view. Also Drake is a few years older than me, so had more stories and more fiascos to tell of. We would inevitably end up howling with laughter at each other’s recent dating stories and it became a bit of a competition.

Before we met up we’d chat on the phone, plan when we were meeting (it was always the same wine bar) and then give each other an indicator of how bad/good the latest gossip was. The scale we used for this wasto work outhow many drinks we would need to get through the story. These were our rather loose guidlines.

Plenty of time passed, as did lots of awful dates, and eventually Drake found someone who he decided he really liked. She liked him and nothing awful or funny had happened. Even though I missed his hilarious stories, I was really pleased for him. Our chatty-teas ended up being more about where his new relationship was going and it was going really well. They were going on romantic weekend breaks and family meals etc, all indicators that this was all going swimmingly for our Drake.

Soooo…you can imagine my surprise when I received a “CODE RED” call from him.

I arrived early so that I could have the wine ready and waiting for the story. It was just days after Valentine’s Day and this didn’t bode well. I’d guessed it wasn’t going to be funny either…he’d sounded glum on the phone. I couldn’t begin to imagine what had rocked their somewhat steady boat.

When Drake confessed the problem to me I was truly gobsmacked.

Gobsmacked at how pathetic he was being and at what a big deal he was making over such a tiny thing and here it is:
His girlfriend had bought him a book for Valentine’s Day – that’s it. I was waiting for him to drop the bomb. “A book”, I repeated waiting for something obvious to occur to me. But there was no bomb. He likes reading and it was by an author that he likes. However, he was not at all happy – in fact he was well and truly miffed.

“Don’t be so vile…lovely thought…I think it’s nice…I would LOVE a book as a Valentine’s gift…” I was saying and then the penny dropped. The girlfriend could have bought him a gold Rolex watch and it wouldn’t have mattered. They weren’t right together and he knew it. They split up not long after this.

The point of the story is that on Valentine’s Day it is truly not about what you receive or what you give. It’snot even about where you are. The only thing that matters is WHO you’re spending it with. If you’re with the wrong person, then everything is wrong.

So, if you are single on Valentine’s Day this year, why not celebrate the fact that you’re not spending it with Mr or Miss Wrong? Get together with your single friends and laugh about dating disasters. Start making plans together to make the most of those lovely long summer evenings that will upon us in a few months. Make a toast to being happy and having good friends.

You might be pleased to know that Drake is now all loved-up in a happy relationship and is even setting up a nest with his perfect little ‘Duck’. I know that Duck could buy him a book this Sunday and he would adore it. Ahhhhhh

This year we have two Man Booker Prizes to look forward to – the annual Man Booker Prize and the recently announced one-off Lost Man Booker Prize.

In 1971 it was decided that the prize should only be awarded to novels published in the current year and not retrospectively. At the same time, the date of the award ceremony was moved from April to November. Due to this some fantastic books written in 1970 missed out on the opportunity to be considered for this prestigious prize.

This is the third “celebratory” Man Booker Prize award – the other two were the Booker of Bookers in 1993 (25th anniversary) and the Best of the Booker to mark the 40th anniversary. Both of these awards were won by Salman Rushdie for his book Midnight’s Children.

This award came about after some investigation by Peter Staus (Booker Prize Foundation archivist). He said, “I noticed that when Robertson Davies’s Fifth Business was first published it carried encomiums from Saul Bellow and John Fowles both of whom judged the 1971 Booker Prize. However judges for 1971 said it had not been considered or submitted. This led to an investigation which concluded that a year had been excluded. I am delighted that, even in a Darwinian way, this year, with so many extraordinary novels, can now be covered by the Man Booker Prize.”

Here is the longlist of the 22 books chosen to be considered for this award:

H.E.Bates, A Little Of What You Fancy?
Nina Bawden, The Birds On The Trees
Melvyn Bragg, A Place In England
Christy Brown, Down All The Days
Len Deighton, Bomber
J.G.Farrell, Troubles
Elaine Feinstein, The Circle
Shirley Hazzard, The Bay Of Noon
Reginald Hill, A Clubbable Woman
Susan Hill, I’m The King Of The Castle
Francis King, A Domestic Animal
Margaret Laurence, The Fire Dwellers
David Lodge, Out Of The Shelter
Iris Murdoch, A Fairly Honourable Defeat
Shiva Naipaul, Fireflies
Patrick O’Brian, Master and Commander
Joe Orton, Head To Toe
Mary Renault, Fire From Heaven
Ruth Rendell, A Guilty Thing Surprised
Muriel Spark, The Driver’s Seat
Patrick White, The Vivisector

40 years on it is the task ofthree judges, all born around 1970, to select just 6 for the shortlist. They are Tobias Hill (poet and novelist), Rachel Cooke (critic and journalist) and Katie Derham (ITN newsreader).

I think judging for any of these awards must be hard, but this task seems particularly difficult given the fact that it would be impossible not to let hindsight cloud your judgement. Many of these books have stood the test of time and many of the writers, then possibly just starting out, are now distinguished and celebrated world-wide with huge fan bases. Several of these authors went on to be shortlisted for the prize for their future work, some won the prize and others even went on to judge prize. Hmmm…the words MINE and FIELD are buzzing around my head.

The shortlist will be announced at The Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival at a special event on 25th March. I will let you know which of the above make it.

Finally, a little quote: “I remain bitterly disappointed no one tried to bribe me.” Tibor Fischer, Man Booker Judge 2004

On 25th January, Scotland and many Scots around the world will be celebrating the life and works of national Bard, Robert Burns with A Burns’ Night Supper.

Sparkle’s Poetry on Friday spot is a perfect opportunity to share some of his wonderful poems.

The first Burns poem I read was Tam o’Shanter, at school in an English Literature class. I’ve loved it ever since. Follow this link to hear actor Brian Cox (Tam o’Shanter) narrating this rich, terrifying and amusing tale.

I like the following ‘song’ because of how well it captures the beauty of the Scottish countryside…enjoy

Yon Wild Mossy Mountains

Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,
That nurse in their bosom the youth o’ the Clyde,
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro’ the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed.

Not Gowrie’s rich valley, nor Forth’s sunny shores,
To me hae the charms o’yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequestered stream,
Besides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
Ilk stream foaming down its ain green, narrow strath;
For there, wi’ my lassie, the day lang I rove,
While o’er us unheeded flie the swift hours o’love.

She is not the fairest, altho’ she is fair;
O’ nice education but sma’ is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo’e the dear lassie because she lo’es me.

To Beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when wit and refinement hae polish’d her darts,
They dazzle our een, as they flie to our hearts.

But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond-sparkling e’e,
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me;
And the heart beating love as I’m clasp’d in her arms,
O, these are my lassie’s all-conquering charms!

As Sparkle’s resident ‘bookie’ the following poem really amused me. Bearing in mind his reputation as a womaniser Burns, ironically, warns women against reading raunchy novels. He mentions Tom Jones by Fielding and Richardson’s Sir Charles Grandison. He refers to himself as “Rob Mossgiel”, and apparently reading these books will make their “youthful fancies reel…then you’re prey for Rob Mossgiel”. The very gorgeous Robert Carlyle narrates this for the BBC, to listen to it click here.

O Leave Novels

O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye’re safer at your spinning-wheel;
Such witching books are baited hooks
For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel;
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel;
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
And then you’re prey for Rob Mossgiel.

Beware a tongue that’s smoothly hung,
A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part -
‘Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.
The frank address, the soft caress,
Are worse than poisoned darts of steel;
The frank address, and politesse,
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.

Christopher Reid’s touchingly beautiful tribute to his late wife recently won a Costa Book Award in the ‘Poetry’ category. A Scattering is made up of four sequences and covers the heartbreak of watching his beloved wife die and his life afterwards.

Rather than being morose, I’ve found that these poems ooze with adoration and tell a tale in retrospect of a marriage that was filled with love and respect.

Late by ChristopherReid

Late home one night, I found

she was not yet home herself.

So I got into bed and waited

under my blanket mound,

until I heard her come in

and hurry upstairs.

My back was to the door.

Without turning round,

I greeted her, but my voice

made only a hollow, parched-throated

k-, k-, k- sound,

which I could not convert into words

and which, anyway, lacked

the force to carry.

Nonplussed, but not distraught,

I listened to her undress,

then sidle along the far side

of our bed and lift the covers.

Of course, I’d forgotten she’d died.

Adjusting my arm for the usual

cuddle and caress,

I felt mattress and bedboards

welcome her weight

as she rolled and settled towards me,

but, before I caught her,

it was already too late

and she’d wisped clean away.

As a lover of all things ‘Books’ I always like to keep a keen eye on the nominations and winners of The Costa Book Awards, formerly the Whitbread Book Awards. It’s a great opportunity for wonderful books to be showcased and get some well deserved publicity. Over the years I have found some gems that I wouldn’t have stumbled across if they hadn’t have been nominated for this award.

This year’s individual category winners were announced on BBC Radio 4’s “Front Row” programme last week, these are:

Novel Award Winner

Colm Toibin -Brooklyn

What the judges said: “Poised, quiet and incrementally shattering – we all loved this book and can’t praise it highly enough.”

Synopsis: Based in the early 1950s, a young Irish girl emigrates to New York and finds herself lodging in a crowded house in Brooklyn. She’s lost and lonely at first, but then begins to make friends and eventually finds love.

First Novel Award Winner

Raphael Selbourne – Beauty

What the judges said: “Pitch perfect on every level – we loved this book.”

Synopsis: Beauty – in both name and appearance – is a twenty-year-old Bangladeshi, back in England having shocked her family by fleeing an abusive arranged marriage. Now she is forced onto the jobseekers’ treadmill. Her fractious encounters with officialdom, fellow claimants, strangers and passers-by in the city streets, exacerbated by the restrictions (and comfort) of her language and culture, place her at the mercy of such unlikely helpers as Mark, a friendly, dog-owning ex-offender, and Peter, the middle-class underachiever on the rebound from a bitter relationship.

Biography Award Winner

Graham Farmelo – The Strangest Man

What the judges said: “The extraordinary mind and achievements of Britain’s Einstein are rendered here in the most compelling biography of the year.”

Synopsis: Paul Dirac was aleading pioneer of the greatest revolution in 20th-century science: quantum mechanics. The youngest theoretician ever to win the Nobel Prize for Physics, he was also pathologically reticent, strangely literal-minded and legendarily unable to communicate or empathize. Through his greatest period of productivity, his postcards home contained only remarks about the weather. Graham Farmelo celebrates Dirac’s scientific achievement while drawing a compassionate portrait of his life and work. Farmelo shows a man who, while hopelessly socially inept, could manage to love and sustain close friendship.

Poetry Award Winner

Christopher Reid – A Scattering

What the judges said: “Intensely moving, compelling and honest – this is a highly readable collection of wonderful poems. A life-affirming collection, full of urgency and feeling.”

Synopsis: Christopher Reid’s wife, died in October 2005. A Scattering is his tribute to her and consists of four poetic sequences, the first written during her final illness, and the other three at intervals after her death.

Children’s Book Award Winner

Patrick Ness – The Ask and the Answer (Chaos Walking, Book Two)

What the judges said: “From the first word, we were gripped by this dazzlingly-imagined, morally complex, compulsively-plotted tale. We are convinced that this is a major achievement in the making.”

Synopsis: “The Ask and the Answer” is a tense, shocking and deeply moving novel of resistance under the most extreme pressure. This is the second book in the “Chaos Walking” trilogy.

Each of thesewriters will receive £5,000 prize money and one will be awarded the title of Costa Award Book of the Year. The overall winner will be announced on 26th January 2010 at an award ceremony in London. I will be sure to let you know who grabs a further £25K and this prestigious award.

Last year’s winner was Sebastian Barry with his book The Secret Scripture.

Unless you’ve been on the Moon or locked in a floatation tank this week, you’ll know that the UK is pretty much all white, icy and cold. I think us Brits are already all a bit mad – but throw some snow into the mix and everyone seems to be in a total tiz. It took me 30 minutes to just get out of a Supermarket car park this evening and I’ve almost lost the will. Sooo, I thought I’d share with you some lovely poetry about this weather to restore my good mood and relax on this Friday evening.

Winter by Walter de la Mare

Clouded with snow
The cold winds blow,
And shrill on leafless bough
The robin with its burning breast
Alone sings now.

The rayless sun,
Day’s journey done,
Sheds its last ebbing light
On fields in leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly white.

Thick draws the dark,
And spark by spark,
The frost-fires kindle, and soon
Over that sea of frozen foam
Floats the white moon.

Snow by Walter de la Mare

No breath of wind,
No gleam of sun –
Still the white snow
Whirls softly down
Twig and bough
And blade and thorn
All in an icy
Quiet, forlorn.
Whispering, rustling,
Through the air
On still and stone,
Roof, – everywhere,
It heaps its powdery
Crystal flakes,
Of every tree
A mountain makes;
‘Til pale and faint
At shut of day
Stoops from the West
One wint’ry ray,
And, feathered in fire
Where ghosts the moon,
A robin shrills
His lonely tune.

Now it’s that dreaded time of making resolutions, beating yourself up for doing so badly at last year’s lot. You’re promising yourself that you’ll do more of the ‘good’ things and hardly any ‘bad’ things. I don’t know about you, but I always find that New Year’s Resolutions are a bit like a child saying a prayer with one eye open – not really a committed to the cause but feeling that it is the right thing to do.

As we’re done with the ‘Noughties’ I thought I’d have a look at what The Times listed as “The 100Best Books of the Decade”. I hang my head in shame and reveal to you that I’ve only read FOUR, 4, IV…yes just four out of 100on The Times list.

Here’s the ones I have read:
No. 57 Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss
No. 47 Collected Poems of Ted Hughes
No. 30 The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
No. 20 White Teeth by Zadie Smith

In my defense (and I do feel defense is needed here), an awful lot of the books on the list are reference books or about various wars. Which I do plan to read…maybe when I’m very old or locked in a cell with them.

In 2010 I’m going to be starving myself thin and, worse luck, be sober, with that in mind I’ve decided to go easy with myself on the reading front. I’m going to read what the hell I want, even if that ends up being chick-lit-trash. I’m going to be thin and wonderful, so surely I don’t have to prove myself to be a master in literature too

The first few up and coming releases that tickle my fancy are:

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
Winner of 2009’s Man Booker Prize. Based in Tudor times when Henry VIII was King. This book has had rave reviews and has definitely managed to sweep aside the snobbery in the literary world towards historical novels. Hilary Mantel has been described as “one of our greatest living writers”. Soon to be released in paperback, I’ll definitely be giving this book a whirl.

Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín
Based in the early 1950s, a young Irish girl emigrates to New York and finds herself lodging in a crowded house in Brooklyn. She’s lost and lonely at first, but then begins to make friends and eventuallyfinds love. This book is another to have been very favourably reviewed so I’ll buy it in paperback to see what all the fuss is about.

Three Weeks to Say Goodbye by C.J. Box
This author is a rising star on the American thriller writers’ scene. Some of the biggies in his field have said the following:
“In the crowded field of crime fiction, C.J. Box has quickly established himself as an original voice… Box is exploring new territory. He is fresh, captivating, and has something to say.” – Michael Connelly
“One of the best thrillers of the year. It kept me up most of the night, the way few books have ever done. C.J. Box owes me a night’s sleep!” – Tess Gerritsen
“One of today’s solid-gold A-list must-read writers” – Lee Child

Ah see, not a chic-lit novel in sight. I am going to also tackle a biography as promised in one of my earlier blogs. I’d love to hear what you Sparklers have in mind for future reads. Happy, happy New Year.

As the sun rose over a new day, new year and new decade this Friday I thought it only right to share with you a poem about new beginnings, shaking off the old and being positive about the new. I’ve added O Tell Me The Truth About Love by WH Auden just because it always puts a smile on my face, and because Sparkle seems to already be sparking off some romance and helping people find love. What a lovely way to start the year, with new dreams and aspirations.

New Beginningsby Allison Bovard

I want to start a new foundation,
Forget the past, keep memories at bay.
I want to be a new creation,
Soar on wings and fly away.

I want to start a new tomorrow,
One that holds smiles and laughter.
I want to rise above my sorrow,
Focus myself on what comes after.

So, now I start my new beginning,
Stretching my wings so I’ll soar to the sky.
I’ll live my life forever grinning,
And won’t let time slip by.

O Tell Me The Truth About Love by WH Auden

Some say love’s a little boy,
And some say it’s a bird,
Some say it makes the world go around,
Some say that’s absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn’t do.

Does it look like a pair of pyjamas,
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.

Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It’s quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I’ve found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway guides.

Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.

I looked inside the summer-house;
It wasn’t over there;
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton’s bracing air.
I don’t know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn’t in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.

Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all its time at the races,
or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of its own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.

When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I’m picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my toes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.