ACCENT: ALL THE BIRDS, SINGING by Evie Wyld

ACCENT: ALL THE BIRDS, SINGING by Evie Wyld

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Jake is trying to escape from her past. She’s taken up a modest sheep farm on a remote, rocky island off the coast of England. It’s the sort of place where trees only get so tall because the wind never lets up. Here, she can be invisible, or nearly so. No one knows her or her past. Even her eponymous Dog isn’t particularly bound to the hearth fires.

Walking her pasture one day, she finds a sheep…

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POEM - April 17

POEM – April 17

EXCERPTED FROM LAUSTIC BY MARIE DE FRANCE

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No-one detected their subterfuge,
No-one could tell her not to stare
Out her own window–and he’d be there.
Long had they loved each other dear
When there came the summer of one year.
Now woods and meadows are green again,
Orchards in blossom are seen again,
The birdie all his sweet notes showers
In joyous play on the sweet flowers.
A man or woman who…

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ACCENT: 1000 FEELINGS FOR WHICH THERE ARE NO NAMES by Mario Giordano

ACCENT: 1000 FEELINGS FOR WHICH THERE ARE NO NAMES by Mario Giordano

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This is an amusing collection of disparate thoughts, all compiled into a handy guide (of sorts). Some languages have words for which there is no easy translation (see: Schadenfrude). Giordano turns this around and describes the feelings themselves. The reader has very often been in that position and can easily relate to the lack of adequate lexicon.

Here are a few:

180: The yearning for…

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POEM - April 14

POEM – April 14

EXCERPTED FROM THE LADY OF SHALOTT BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON The Lady of Shalott by J. W. Waterhouse

The Lady of Shalott by J. W. Waterhouse

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken’d wholly,
Turn’d to tower’d Camelot;
For ere she reach’d upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and…

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POEM - APRIL 11

POEM – APRIL 11

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY LIKE THE NIGHT BY LORD BYRON

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She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er…

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