‘I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.’
– Pablo Neruda
I love these lines. They describe perfectly the creative connection between the landscape and us. Recently, I have been devoting my energy almost exclusively to novel-writing,
and I must admit I miss the process of creating a poem, the makings of which swirl around the brain in a totally different way to the plot of a novel; the words are liberated somehow. There are no rules, no expectations.
On National Poetry Day, perhaps we should all be taking a moment to write a few lines, as a way of connecting with what’s important to us, or simply to recapture the joy of writing for the sheer pleasure of it. I was delighted to find myself in the Angus edition of The Courier today alongside some proper poets! Feeling rather rusty, I decided to look out some of my poems inspired by the landscape. The first was written at Barry Mill, and the second is rather seasonal. Happy National Poetry Day!
Ghost Mill
The wheel turns.
Dust falls from every wormhole;
every sandstone pore. Spores slacken
with the thump and thrum;
the din of timber.
The mill exhales, expands,
loosening old lives
like buttons on a waistcoat.
The wheel turns.
Shapes shift in the dark;
sparks blue as eyes;
the scent of old smoke.
The re-formed flour ghosts
of old men settle
beneath the faint silver of
their names.
The wheel turns.
The damsel in the machinery,
skirt dappled with
paw-prints, slack-jaws gossip
down through generations;
until the past
meshes with the present.
On and on.
And still…
the wheel turns. Sandra Ireland
Signed by the artist
With gloomy brushstrokes
Guardi paints Venice. All
pale piazzas and falling skies;
lagoons breathing gunsmoke.
Adds a signature fleck of red.
All winter I wait, colourless,
under snow-bruised clouds;
breathing ice cobwebs on glass.
Until, at last, Nature adds
a bright splash
of robin.
Sandra Ireland
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
heritage of Angus, where the retreats would be held, and celebrating the idea that, for one weekend at least, the clock would be stopped. We even had a tagline, ‘Press pause in the heart of Angus.’!
Newall for a local solicitor, Robert Threshie in 1823. The house and garden were in private ownership from 1823 to 1914. The house then became a nursing home which closed in 1997. Thereafter it fell into disrepair and was subsequently purchased by a local housing association. In August 2009, Moat Brae House was due to be demolished to make way for new social housing.At the eleventh hour, it has been saved for the nation and is well worth a visit.
Charmingly preserved, you can see lots of memorabilia connected with the author, and some delightful quotes and photographs. Barrie returned to the cottage before his death in 1937, to have one last look at his old bedroom. The then owner was surprised but delighted to welcome him in to his old home and a poignant photograph commemorates the visit.
But no rest for the wicked writer. As everyone knows August is BOOK HEAVEN in Edinburgh, with not only the International Book Festival in Charlotte Square, but a raft to of other exciting booky fringe events.
At last! Bone Deep is here. Many writers will tell you how tricky that second book is, and to some extent that’s true, although for me the writing was the easy bit. I adored creating Bone Deep; I love Lucie, and Mac, and I have a big soft spot for Arthur. I miss those guys! I’m hoping that my readers will love this story just as much as I do.
I’ve just poured myself a large gin and tonic, but before I take one more sip of mother’s ruin, I want to say a BIG thank you to my amazing agent 
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of travelling south to my old stomping ground of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. As a teenager, I lived in nearby Morpeth, and my Dad worked for many years in the Post Office Garage in Pottery Lane. Oh, how I remember him cursing the rush hour traffic on his daily commute! The reason for my visit? The very special 
Sandra Ireland 