Friday Poem: Ordinary Things

We had (another) frost this morning, but with the clearest of skies and brilliant sunshine, it would be hard to complain about the icy start to the day. The temperature climbed to the high teens (Celsius) in the afternoon, bringing sweet promises of spring just around the corner…but not just yet, I suspect.frosty morning 3

I can’t write all the time
Of sorrow, grief and love and pain,
Sex and Death
The Great Themes of poetry:
Well worn and self-renewing,
The Happy Hunting Grounds
Of countless poets;
Fertile fields fresh-sown
And constantly reaped;
Always compelling, large and intimate.

Sometimes I must write
Of ordinary things:
But even ordinary things
The common garden clay,
Weather and clouds and days,
Nod more than a little
With familiar courtesy
To the same Great Themes –
Comfort and grief and love and death
Really are ordinary things;
No topic is unfit for poetry.
The magic lies in
How you look at things.frosty morning

I took my camera out into the frosty morning, even though I thought that maybe there was nothing new to see in it. However the brilliant sunshine behind the trees was ravishingly beautiful. And, back inside and thawing out my fingers, I found the winter sunlight just as lovely in the kitchen.

frosty morning 2

In photography. as in poetry, the magic lies in how you look at things!

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