Today’s piece from the archive is “Without realising it, the postman left a poem.” It was a great delight last year when I composed this poem from the postman’s pre-Christmas visits. This year eight cards have made their way through the door, but I am still waiting for a verse.
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I am very fond of this little poem from the archive. It outlines advice for letter writing, an activity that I so enjoy and of which I reckon I am one of the last remaining proponents. Many recipients of my correspondence have graciously sent back their pen-and-paper replies. In some instances, they have noted the formula for correspondence.
This poem is one of 25 in my volume Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys.
Something for you –
heads the blue card
is it a poem?
an enveloped ode?
Your item is
It could not be delivered.
No-one was at home
on this date 14. Dec
at this time 1pm
for the verse? No
You’ll have to collect
(Now, this is the poem?)
the something for you
at our depot.
I have produced two books of poetry. The poems of my first volume draw on experiences of my youth. Shining in Brightness includes poems that explore young love and infatuation, trying to forge a creative path and remember the father I lost to cancer.
The second volume is dedicated to contemporary men, aka ‘the Modern Boy’. The poems filter advice and insights through the voice of a character called Emily. Preview Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys here.
I am here at this place
doing this thing, though I am writing to you.
Look – something I have observed.
You could add
I miss you much or
I wish you were here, because –
note something we could share.
Maybe you could sign off
Fondest regards, or
All my love and a thousand kisses,
but that is rather silly, so xoxoxo will do.
Here I am, in an afternoon,
noting the formula for correspondence.
Look, the whole point
would be a letter
I am a great fan of letter and postcard writing and my recent correspondences have triggered a few turns to poetry. The above may make it into the forthcoming bundle “Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys,” which is steadily rising in poem count.