Mary Spain


Mary Spain Poems

41. The Prisoner's Wife 8/2/2006
42. Conscripted Angels 8/16/2006
43. Homes Or Gardens? 8/4/2006
44. Sunken Garden 8/14/2006
45. The Phoenix Needs The Ashes 8/7/2006
46. For Sale 8/10/2006
47. How Thomas Felt 8/1/2006
48. Below Stairs 8/4/2006
49. Poppy Field 8/9/2006
50. Verbosity 7/30/2012
51. I'M Sitting Here... 8/5/2006
52. An Early Night 7/31/2006
53. Growing Up 8/15/2006
54. A Deaf Musician 8/5/2006

Comments about Mary Spain

  • Mary Spain (5/25/2016 8:47:00 AM)

    blog address: http: //www.lettersfromlondon19.blogspot.co.uk

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Michael Shepherd (9/4/2009 9:15:00 AM)

    Mary

    Do you feel like adding your blog address to your (non-existent!) biodata here?

    I keep losing track of it..

    Michael with love

  • Babasaheb Salve (7/14/2009 3:30:00 AM)

    very butiful indeed arousing closeness to the divine sound

  • Gina Onyemaechi (8/4/2006 2:28:00 PM)

    I am so grateful to Michael Shepherd for announcing Ms Spain today on the forum. She writes with skill, elegance, and innovation using unforced and almost inconspicuous rhyme. When I wrote this (4th August 2006) , Ms Spain had 11 sonnets on show and I enjoyed every last one immensely. Thanks for sharing your writing, Mary.

  • Michael Shepherd (8/2/2006 6:19:00 AM)

    Mary Spain is one of those poets who published 'slim volumes' of fine poetry in the days before the internet, read by discerning readers; then found other good things to occupy her time, which continue to touch many people young and old. She writes skilful, relaxed sonnets among other verse, and I commend her wisdom to what I hope is a new extensive readership worldwide in this 'poetic renaissance' - hers and ours!

Best Poem of Mary Spain

A Deaf Musician

As though a deaf musician, I am part
Of some great orchestra I cannot hear.
The only notes that fall upon my ear
Are those which rise unbidden from the heart
And offer teasing glimpses of the art
Of harmony. Yet have I heard, in clear,
Still moments of perception, what appear
As distant drum-beats; pulses that impart
A rhythm to the cosmic melody.
Then, with a quick'ning joy, I see that I
Am moving to creation's symphony.
As birds that wheel and dart across the sky
To secret music, so it seems that we
Can sometimes see the patterns as we fly.

Read the full of A Deaf Musician

Below Stairs

At times it feels as though I'm trapped below
The slatted floor of heaven. Fleetingly,
I glimpse an angel's foot, or what might be
The shadow of a trailing wing, and know
There's something overhead. And yet, although
I'd love to join their distant company,
The dust and darkness of captivity
Enfeeble ears and eyes and overthrow
The will. Unaided, I can't penetrate

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