Poetry is a style of writing that I have never been that interested in doing myself, and they few times I have tried, the results haven’t exactly been fantastic. But I do appreciate a well written poem, ever since being at school and reading them in English lessons. I always found that after the first reading of a poem, my first thought was usually What was that all about? Even now, I usually have to read a poem more than once, firstly to fully understand it, and secondly to fully appreciate it. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; in fact, the total opposite.
I picked up this lovely little book from a stall in Camden Market in London some years ago, mainly because I liked the cover and the compact neatness of it (like many avid readers and writers, I’m a sucker for unusual books). But I also love the beautiful writing of Wuthering Heights, and knew Emily Bronte’s poetry would be just as heartfelt, perhaps also with that touch of tragedy that made Cathy and Heathcliff’s story so captivating. This is one of my favourite verses from this book:
With that sweet look and lively tone
And bright eye shining all the day
They could not guess at midnight lone
How she would weep the time away