Recently, I have been exploring new areas of literature. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying classic novels; Wuthering Heights, Great Expectations and Far From the Madding Crowd. Of Mice and Men, which I studied a few years ago, is one of my favourite books.

However, something fairly new to me is poetry. I’ve been looking into poetry recently, and I’ve really been enjoying it. I’ve not often purveyed poetry before – I enjoy writing it, and do so often, but I’ve never found much in the writings of others. However, I’m looking to explore that new world, so please share with me some of your favourite poems.  I’d just like to share this with you; ‘The Little House of Lost Play’, by Tolkien.


We knew that land once, You and I,

and once we wandered there

in the long days now long gone by,

a dark child and a fair.

Was it on the paths of firelight thought

in winter cold and white,

or in the blue-spun twilit hours

of little early tucked-up beds

in drowsy summer night,

that you and I in Sleep went down

to meet each other there,

your dark hair on your white nightgown

and mine was tangled fair?

We wandered shyly hand in hand,

small footprints in the golden sand,

and gathered pearls and shells in pails,

while all about the nightengales

were singing in the trees.

We dug for silver with our spades,

and caught the sparkle of the seas,

then ran ashore to greenlit glades,

and found the warm and winding lane

that now we cannot find again,

between tall whispering trees.

The air was neither night nor day,

an ever-eve of gloaming light,

when first there glimmered into sight

the Little House of Play,

New-built it was, yet very old,

white, and thatched with straws of gold,

and pierced with peeping lattices

that looked toward the sea;

and our own children’s garden-plots

were there: our own forgetmenots,

red daisies, cress and mustard,

and radishes for tea.

There all the borders, trimmed with box,

were filled with favourite flowers, with phlox,

with lupins, pinks, and hollyhocks,

beneath a red may-tree;

and all the gardens full of folk

that their own little language spoke,

but not to You and Me.

For some had silver watering-cans

and watered all their gowns,

or sprayed each other; some laid plans

to build their houses, little towns

and dwellings in the trees.

And some were clambering on the roof;

some crooning lonely and aloof;

some dancing round the fairy-rings

all garlanded in daisy-strings,

while some upon their knees

before a little white-robed king

crowned with marigold would sing

their rhymes of long ago.

But side by side a little pair

with heads together, mingled hair,

went walking to and fro

still hand in hand; and what they said,

ere Waking far apart them led,

that only we now know.

— J.R.R. Tolkien

    Another I thoroughly enjoy is Ulysses, by Alfred Lord Tennyson.


What are your favourite poems?


Good News!

Good news everybody! I’ve bought myself a tablet, for productivity reasons! It’s a Nexus 7, if you’re interested, but I’ve installed the Kindle app onto it, so I can now use it as an e-reader when I’m out and about. You see, up until now I have been bound to reading at home on my brother’s Kindle, so I should be able to read and review more quickly now. I’ve also hooked it up to WordPress, so I can write my reviews on here as well!

Something I’ve been interested in for a while is whether a tablet is a useful accessory to a writer; be it a blogger or an author (I am beginning to write a novel of my own). Once I’ve decided whether or not it war worth it, I’ll write a blog post to that effect!


The Cry Of The Icemark (Stuart Hill) Book Review

Okay, this is my first book review in a while, and is in truth an interval as I am reading a book for an author. The Cry Of the Icemark (TCOTI) is a book I first borrowed from the library a number of years ago. Since then, I have bought the book that I may read it again, which probably tells you something of how much I enjoyed it! But anyway, I hope you enjoy the review as I get myself back into blogging.

TCOTI is the story of Thirrin Lindenshield, who becomes the young Queen of the Icemark kingdom following the death of her father in the first moves of an invasion into their lands. The Empire of the Polypontus holds the most ruthless army in the land, led by the General Bellorum and his sons. The Icemark is a small region in the coldest part of the land, for it lies under snow for most of the year. Thirrin knows that her small army cannot hope to repel the Empire and the vicious Bellorum, and she knows that she must find allies. Who can she turn to in her hour of need. In a time of need, Thirrin will look to the most unlikely of allies. The talking leopards of the north, the vampires and the savage werewolves. And perhaps, just perhaps, the magic of the White Witch’s son. Continue reading

Going Postal (Terry Pratchett) Book Review

Going Postal Book Review, Terry Pratchett

Another Pratchett book here. I’m on a bit of a vein really. I’m really liking his writing at the moment, and it’s a whole world of books I haven’t read before: brilliant, eh? This book follows another of the mini-Discworld-series that I spoke of in my Snuff review, and this time it’s Moist Von Lipwig (don’t laugh)(pronounced Lipvig). It’s genuinely surprising how interesting a book about a dilapidated old post office is. Then again, this is Ankh Morpork we’re talking about.

In ‘Going Postal’, ex-conman fraudster Moist Von Lipwig (without any of his aliases) is at the ed of the line. He’s been caught, and he’s sentenced to hang, and hang he does. It isn’t often, though, that guardian angels come in the form of your local city tyrant, one Lord Vetinari. Apparently, Moist has a choice. He can either get the old Postal Service going again, or he can go back to being dead. They seem like quite similar fates. Moist is thrilled at his strike of luck, and accepts the job. Of course, the first thing he does is fetch a horse and bag it out of the city double time. Unfortunately, he is dragged back to the Post Office by his own personal Golem, Mr. Pump. Then things really get tough. Continue reading