I love the idea of a midweek respite from the hum-drum-grind-bind-stride of life for just a few moments. Reading poetry has the power to transport you off into another world, other worlds, an inside place; bringing a new perspective. Words are so powerful.
But I don’t just want to feature my own words and poems here.
This week I rediscovered an anthology of poetry by Amy Anderson that I bought last summer from the Tell it Slant poetry pop-up in the Project Cafe in Glasgow.
The cafe had just opened in time for the Glasgow International Art Festival, and Amy’s anthology was the first thing I picked up. As I flicked through the pages the title of one of the poems caught my attention: Johnstone Girl.
I live in Johnstone. And my name is Johnstone. And then my favourite song came on. It had to be.
I’m not going to reproduce the whole poem here (for copyright purposes, and to perhaps encourage others to seek out this anthology), so instead here are the first and last lines:
Maybe she was a wind in an old life.
She flies on a wistful breath
Eyes caught in her frown
are taut Hebridean seas.
The anthology is called Night’s Fresh Velvet (such a great title!), published by Calder Wood Press.
I was transported far and wide and close inside by the words of Amy Anderson.
I hope you enjoyed these words from a magpie girl; a Johnstone girl, and a poetry lover.