{"id":20853,"date":"2019-12-22T08:00:58","date_gmt":"2019-12-22T08:00:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=20853"},"modified":"2020-12-14T11:23:28","modified_gmt":"2020-12-14T11:23:28","slug":"on-the-first-day-of-christmas-we-bring-you-beth-mcdonough-chris-hardy-jane-burn","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/on-the-first-day-of-christmas-we-bring-you-beth-mcdonough-chris-hardy-jane-burn\/","title":{"rendered":"On the First Day of Christmas we bring you Beth McDonough, Chris Hardy, Jane Burn"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n

Walking to the Solstice<\/strong><\/p>\n

I raise you a bunch of haws’ tight fists,
\ndarkly reluctant to quit thorns.
\nI compliment you in frosted drips,
\nmash, sticky from orange-bright hips.
\nI give you hard burgundy brambles
\nnever destined to grow soft or more ripe.
\nI slip down strange chocolate-bittered fruits,
\nhungover by tenacious crab apples.<\/p>\n

All your light sharpens these short hours
\nignites, then doubles the Tay.
\nYou flare in the rip
\nfired through the lifeboat pier.
\nWe curl into your copper bowl news,
\nkeen for the year’s last turn.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beth McDonough<\/strong>\u2019s poetry appears in Magma, Poetry Salzburg Review<\/em> and elsewhere; she reviews in DURA<\/em>. When not writing she is to be found year-round, in or by the Tay. Lamping for pickled fish<\/em> is newly-published by 4Word.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Midwinter Invitation<\/strong><\/p>\n

Though the sun stands still and cold
\ndarkness seems to lengthen, deepen,
\ndespite being trimmed a fraction.
\nOn a foggy morning, barometer rising,
\nalmost invisible sparrows play in the wood
\nlike small falling leaves that sing.
\nThey don\u2019t mean to teach me but they do,
\nso I\u2019ve hung a hotel on the shed for them
\nnext Spring, or sooner if snow comes.
\nIn due course the sun will pause again,
\nbut this time overhead at noon,
\nand the busy team chasing
\nacross the road will still be here,
\nliving on scraps of dust and air.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Chris Hardy<\/strong> lives in Sussex and has traveled widely. His poems have been published in many magazines, anthologies and websites. He is in LiTTLe MACHiNe www.little-machine.com<\/a><\/u>\u00a0‘The most brilliant music and poetry band in the world’. Carol Ann Duffy. His collection Sunshine at the end of the world, was<\/em> published by Indigo Dreams.”A guitarist as well as a poet Chris Hardy consistently hits the right note, never hits a false note”. Roger McGough.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Advent Calendar of Most Useful Things<\/strong><\/p>\n

Behind door no. 1\u00a0\u00a0<\/em> A stranger\u2019s smile cut from a magazine.
\nBehind door no. 2\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 The feeling of approaching rain.
\nBehind door no. 3\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 A healthy mushroom dome.
\nBehind door no. 4\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 A bradawl\u2019s point.
\nBehind door no. 5\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 Broth mix.
\nBehind door no. 6\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 Some obsolete currency.
\nBehind door no. 7<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 A tawny owl\u2019s inclination.
\nBehind door no. 8\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0 Your favourite carol sung tuneless and loud.
\nBehind door no.<\/em> 9\u00a0\u00a0 A lucky horseshoe.
\nBehind door no. 10<\/em>\u00a0 An atlas of made-up lands.
\nBehind door no. 11<\/em>\u00a0 Permission slip for a pantomime.
\nBehind door no. 12<\/em>\u00a0 One outlandish moustache.
\nBehind door no. 13<\/em>\u00a0 Two slices of wholemeal toast.
\nBehind door no. 14\u00a0<\/em> A dish of trifle with no calories.
\nBehind door no. 15<\/em>\u00a0 A squished Chapstick stuck with pocket lint.
\nBehind door no. 16<\/em>\u00a0 Empty (to encourage Seasonal Perplexity).
\nBehind door no. 17<\/em>\u00a0 A genuine vintage Babycham glass.
\nBehind door no. 18<\/em>\u00a0 Your child\u2019s first tooth.
\nBehind door no. 19<\/em>\u00a0 A unicorn made from driftwood.
\nBehind door no. 20<\/em>\u00a0 A matchbox full seaglass from the beach.
\nBehind door no. 21\u00a0<\/em> A stout torch.
\nBehind door no. 22<\/em>\u00a0 The brackish taste of an icicle.
\nBehind door no. 23\u00a0<\/em> A friend\u2019s name from your past.
\nBehind door no. 24<\/em>\u00a0 The smell of a blown-out candle.
\nBehind door no. 25<\/em>\u00a0 An Arctic hare the shape of your mind.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jane Burn<\/strong>‘s poems have been published in many magazines and anthologies, have been placed in numerous competitions and have been nominated for the Forward and Pushcart Prize. None of this is as important as love for each other and for the positive\u00a0power of words.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      Walking to the Solstice I raise you a bunch of haws’ tight fists, darkly reluctant to quit thorns. I compliment you in frosted drips, mash, sticky from orange-bright hips. I give you hard burgundy brambles never destined to grow soft or more ripe. I slip down strange chocolate-bittered fruits, hungover by tenacious […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[114],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20853","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-twelve-days-of-christmas-201920"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20853","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20853"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20853\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20918,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20853\/revisions\/20918"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20853"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20853"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20853"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}