Children chatter in
Standford's stamping ground, now home
To blue birds' new songs.
They throng and warble
Daubing walls with bright colours,
Unmuffled joy and pain.
Memories sigh through
High walls while life goes on, and
History circles.
The house where Charles Villiers Stanford lived before he died, a childless, musically prolific former child prodigy with more famous pupils than famous tunes, is now a nursery. I love his music, and was tickled to see the blue plaque on the wall as I walked back to work this lunchtime.
I'm gearing up to NaPoWriMo again this year (only a couple of weeks away!), and the notion that you should just write poems based on anything and everything you see around you in a day.
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