A few nights ago I went to see two poets - Fleur Adcock and Wendy Cope who were funny and at the same time made you see things in a different light. It was a good evening.
So to finish this literary blog - at least for now - here is a poem I wrote about ten years ago. It is about Mrs Mounter - a painting by Harold Gilman. She was his landlady and he painted her several times. I think she looks like she is remembering back to when she was younger.
Two cups, two spoons, two saucers,
shoved together anyhow.
Which one of us is chipped, stirs
nothing, an empty cup? How
can I know it's not just you
that's fading away, wearing
out? I am watered down too,
but remember the longing
to see something more than tea
in your black eyes - the promise
of rich, over-brewed love, we
both once drank instead of this.