Where The Mountains Sing Through The Screams Of Seagulls



I'm not a man who enjoys poetry
But at times, the beauty of a phrase whether spoken or written can grab me around the neck and almost throttle me with its beauty or power.

A verse in that fake Eurovision ballad Husavik - My home town captured my imagination just the other day
" Where the mountains sing through the screams of seagulls "
Isn't that a fantastic description of an Iceland we all have in our imaginations?

When I was a child I loved a tiny poem Little Fish by D H Lawrence for exactly the same

           " The tiny fish enjoy themselves
              In the sea
              Quick little splinters of life,
              their little lives are fun to them
              in the sea"

" Quick little Splinters of  life"
A beautiful description again, economical and bang on the money

I borrowed a book from the hospice last week and found myself reading it last night.
It was a collection of " Best Loved Poems" illustrated by Isabelle Brent
I was unexpectedly melancholic, a moment's revisiting of old wounds and the feelings around them, and the book provided me with the escape that I needed

This poem by Emily Dickinson lingers in the mind

      " A word is dead
                     When it is said,
              Some say.
         I say it just
         Begins to live
              That day"
              

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