Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author.

By Ann Perrin

My poems are inspired by people, places, life, death, ageing and sometimes by my life as a puppeteer’s daughter. I write in a variety of styles but mainly free verse.... more

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FAQs about Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author.:

How many episodes does Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author. have?

The podcast currently has 17 episodes available.

Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author. episodes:

May 24, 2015 The Oleander
Please click on the link below to hear the podcast of this poem
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/012-theoleander-nh.mp3
The Oleander
We found it in Albi,
no gentle sketch
but boldly painted
bright and blowzy
heady with scent,
out for a good time.
In London.
loving the culture
pink petals
flirted with passers by
revelled in attention
posed for pictures.
Uprooted to Brighton
in a white fleece shroud
it faltered
leaves fell
naked boughs mourned
sensing life had passed.
Two years later
in a new pot
on a south facing wall
tiny green shoots emerge,
pink blossoms
show their party faces.
...more
1min
May 02, 2015 An old dry stone wall
I wrote the ‘The hole in the wall’ at an Arvon creative writing course at Totleigh Barton many years ago.
A film I made earlier –
I have always been attracted to dry stone walls. My grandfather had a stone wall in our built in our garden when I was a child. Grandmother had a serious back injury due to bomb damage on the house, so the only way she could manage the garden was to have a very long raised bed.
Of course the art of dry stone walling is well documented and still carried out today.
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/theholeinthewall.mp3
The hole in the wall
There is a garden I know
with an old dry stone wall.
I wonder who lives there,
perhaps no one at all.
Maybe a spider with spots brown and gold
a mouse with a family to keep from the cold.
A slithery snake could climb into the gap,
a hedgehog curl up for a long winter nap.
The hole is quite dark so I can’t really see
but I think there are eyes staring right back at me.
It could be a toad and this is his home
or a safe place for snails until babies have grown.
For bees it is handy because they like flowers,
they could make lots of honey which takes hours and hours.
But why not a dragon who blows fire and smoke
or a home for a gnome and magical folk.
A shifty black beetle runs past my nose,
if I watch him quite carefully I’ll see where he goes.
The floor is all earthy but I think I can see,
spotty brown toadstools as far as can be.
In the roof there’s a crack with a wee bit of light,
where a ladybird likes to crawl up and take flight.
Butterflies might want to hide from the rain,
rest for a while and fly off again.
There is a garden I know with an old dry stone wall
I wonder who lives there, perhaps no one at all.

A prototype of the book now published.

...more
3min
April 26, 2015 An English Cottage Garden
My Garden – to listen to the podcast please click on link below
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/017-thegarden-nh.mp3
I could sit here in my garden
all my waking hours
simply entranced
by the profusion
of flowers.
Clouds of blue wisteria
float above my head,
and Aquilegia pink and mauve
frame where the birds are fed.
Pansies almost tumble
from my unruly pots,
and spring bulbs left to sleep awhile
obscure forget-me-nots.
The cherry blossoms sprouting
before the bluebells fade away
and Roses gather all their strength
to make a good display.
The passion flower is teasing
the ivy round the tree,
Lily of the valley
share their scent with me.
So I sit in my garden,
all my waking hours,
simply entranced
by the profusion of the flowers.
...more
2min
April 19, 2015 Picasso’s Model
To hear the introduction and Ann’s poem Picasso’s Model – please click on the arrow on the podcast below.
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/016-picassosmodel-nh.mp3
Picasso’s Model
He watches me intently
as though drawing a vase.
I heat my iron once again,
cover the handle with cloth
and continue my labour.
He can’t paint the music
of my iron
as it hisses with the heat
or the movement
of my body
as I dance in my mind.
Once I shared his bed
and curled between these sheets
feeling his hands on my smooth
white breasts,
his body firm against mine
as we shared our passion
into the night.
Who lies in his studio now
or shares his bed?
I don’t ask.
I am just a poor woman.
and have nowhere else to go.
...more
1min
April 13, 2015 Moving on

Listen to Ann’s poem Moving on now – simply press the arrow on this latest post –
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/015-movingon-nh.mp3
This poem was written on the last day of a course at Arvon. Arvon run creative writing courses for all kinds of writing. The tutors are usually well known in their field as well as experienced facilitators for writing groups.
Moving on
Luggage abandoned in the hall
and trains won’t wait for late departure.
But here we sit
lost in the dance of life.
Mirrored in this tiny drama
and willing it never to end.
The heat of the fire
lulls us into companionable silence.
The flames leap and flare
reminding us of past passion.
Logs shift and fall
but we are motionless.
Showers of feathery dust
and final embers fall away.
We rise reluctantly to go
and face our fond farewells.
As if in a dream
fading into uncertain futures.
...more
1min
March 13, 2015 The Passing Season
A poem about a neighbour in South London. He lived in a house beyond a high fence at the end of the garden and I never got to know him.
Listen to Ann’s poem The Passing Season now – simply press the arrow on this latest post page –
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/007-thepassingseason.mp3
The Passing Season
Hidden from view he hums
deep resonant sounds of age and wisdom.
My neighbour’s steady beat on wooden stakes
marks time to his labour and his tune.
I peer into my wintered pond for life,
heavily pregnant newts glide in waiting.
Bluebells challenge crocuses for their space
buds of blossom spring from spiky branches.
Ash tree seeds scatter in the wind,
making space for waving fronds of green.
Birds compete for feathers for their nests.
The capricious sun hides its features.
A silence falls on secret thoughts,
as winter’s drama melts away at last.
...more
1min
February 20, 2015 Reconciliation

Listen to Ann’s poem Reconciliation now – simply press the arrow on this latest post page –
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/011-reconciliation-nh.mp3
Reconciliation

Seeds take flight with the softest blow,
on dandelion clocks you know.
Forever?
How long can that be?
And who’s in charge of time. Tell me?
Twin spirits drift and sometimes fly,
but cannot separate or die.
Distance is all in the mind,
a word for space I think you’ll find.
Alienation is a choice,
but takes an angry tone of voice.
Despite the walls, the gates, the locks,
think of the seeds around that clock.
They drift, they fly, they find some ground,
and safely grow until they’re found.
...more
1min
February 20, 2015 Beachcombing
Listen to – Beachcombing – Ann’s latest podcast on her poetry site by pressing the link –
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/014-beachcombing.mp3
Beachcombing
Where a solitary seagull flew
hopeful of an unexpected catch
an old man moved along
the deserted seashore.
Glancing skywards
as if to ward off new invaders.
He kept his gaze low,
pausing then pouncing,
hands sifting piles of slippery pebbles,
“Makes a good walk” he called,
digging to retrieve his bounty –
two battered 20p coins.
“Like poetry?”
he called, I nodded
so with one hand cupped
to the side of his mouth,
warding off competition
from roar of the wind
on the incoming tide
he launched into a sonnet.
I clapped respectfully
as he continued to work the beach
as a showman might,
reaping his due rewards for such
a powerful performance.
...more
1min
February 13, 2015 Don’t Throw Away the Daisies
Ann’s poetry podcast –
Listen to the poem ‘Don’t Throw the Daisies‘ on Ann’s blog now – by clicking on link below –

https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/010-dontthowawaythedaisies-nh.mp3
Don’t Throw Away the Daisies
Thank you for passing the time with me.
It’s so lonely waiting to die.
Can’t tell you how angry I felt
when you first appeared
with fruit and flowers
wittering on about sun and the seasons.
I wanted to scream at you “I’m dying”
Have you got the colouring book?
One of your slightly better ideas.
Silly really but I love doing them,
reminds me of being little,
using every crayon in the box.
Mother and me at the kitchen table.
Now when you do the flowers
please don’t throw away the daisies
although I know they are past their best.
Could you do my nails?
I often had a manicure when I was working
it seems important that God should see
I’ve tried my hardest.
I love the oils, the scent of lavender
challenging that mournful medical smell?
Hold my hand, I’m feeling so very tired
Deep rhythms overwhelm me
creeping in on every side.
My eyelids are amazing rainbows
how very strange.
Let’s say goodbye now – softly
just in case I slip away.
...more
2min
February 06, 2015 Blackpool Illuminations
Listen to Blackpool Illuminations now by pressing the link below –
https://annperrinpoetry.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/009-blackpoolilluminations.mp3
Our parents performed on The North Pier Blackpool with their elaborate Marionette Musical. We stayed in a a holiday summer flat on the front from June to October.
Blackpool Illuminations
How can we sleep, sleep with this din
when all that is out there wants to come in?
The windows ajar so the curtains are free,
ripples of moonlight dance on the sea.
A huge paddle steamer trundles along
with thousands of lights it moves through the throng.
It comes creeping along on the tracks of the tram
cars all start hooting because there’s a jam.
Songs from the old days are blaring out loud
every so often they’re sung by the crowd.
The brightest of colours, red, blue and green
Flick on and off to highlight each scene.
An enormous Mad Hatter is pouring some tea
and pirates trap Lost Boys under a tree.
Witches and wizards are busy with spells
Goblins and fairies are living in wells.
The boat is upon us and dazzles our eyes,
We find ourselves falling like kites in the skies.
On a giant helter-skelter we find ourselves slide
We’re twisting and turning enjoying the ride.
On candyfloss mountains we’ll bounce and we’ll jump
On lollypop twisters we’ll land with a thump.
We’ll spin round and round on pink and white twirls
and sail the dark seas on liquorice swirls.
We’ll stop and have tea that the Mad Hatter makes
run after the knave who steals all the cakes.
We’ll follow the piper who gets rid of the rats
stroke the soft fur of the fairyland cats.
The boat trundles on to the end of the track
it’s lucky for us that it makes its way back.
So we leave magic dragons and fish that can talk
three little pigs who are out for a walk
We pass by our window and take a great leap
tired with excitement we soon fall asleep.
Our sheets made of cotton have mud here and where
to remind us at daybreak we really were there.
The Puppethouse history blog please click on this link. https://puppethousemuseum.wordpress.com/
My main blog which is three years old https://wordpress.com/stats/annperrin.wordpress.com
An award winning blog a ‘blog that brightens our day’
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3min

FAQs about Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author.:

How many episodes does Poetry by Ann Perrin - Poems read by the Author. have?

The podcast currently has 17 episodes available.