Small Stones (20) and other things

Something my son said yesterday about the contrast of day and night while we have snow had me commenting 'There's a poem in there somewhere.'  There was and this is it:

Grey hangs its head all day,
gloom settles its mind.
In the night snow is in reflective mood
brightening dark spaces
where they sleep the hours away.

           *

I was reading a free magazine given out after the TS Eliot Prize readings last Sunday.  There were some new poems, one was by Jackie Kay but the one that really stirred me was by Sam Willetts about a hotel room, the aftermath of losing someone you love and a thunderstorm.  There were a couple of lines that I loved and wished so much I'd written them.  My sort of thing, so descriptive but to the point, not a ramble, you know? I already have one of Sam's poetry books and this has made me think perhaps I should look into his poetry again. Some poets keep coming back to you.  He's one.

Here he is reading that poem:

I also read an article about writing a long poem.  I'm not good with long poems, reading them or writing them.  If a poem goes over two pages I'm inclined to skip it!  It really has to grab me quickly or I am lost, and not those poems about Greek gods who I've never studied (but I'm not saying I won't at some time) which mean nothing to me.  But while I was reading the article I was moved to consider the possibility of writing one.  Why?  I don't know.  Maybe I see it as a challenge, and I do like those!  So perhaps this year I will attempt one just for the hello of it!