The Poem of the Week is 'While the Blackbird Sings' by Dorothy Webb
The piece is cleverly constructed and while it appears slight and almost musical, it carries a darker tale underneath its nursery rhyme exterior - much like the songs sung on the playgrounds around the world, its juxtaposition of dark theme and light structure are its greatest strength.
Below, Dorothy answers our Q&A;
Where do you look most for inspiration for your poetry?
I have never looked for inspiration - it always comes to me - and is always unexpected (though welcome) and it usually comes from surprising directions.
Apart from poetry, what is one book you would recommend everyone read?
I would never presume to advise anyone - we are all so different.
What is your favourite style of poetry? Do you favour the constraints of sonnets and villanelle or the freedom of free-verse?
I am still learning - i love the flow and repetition of a villanelle - but I have a difficulty with constraints - i like a poem that free flows without obstruction and has a strong rhyming element.
If you could give one piece of writing advice to people what would it be?
Let go --- let your words flow freely - they will choose their own natural path and can be tidied up later.
What do you look for most in a poem?
I like a poem that has an 'authentic ring' about it.
I like funny ones - they can release a building tension.
Others that I like are so beautiful that they take me to another zone, much like a dream or trance.
And then there are the ones that are so strong and vivid that they disturb, I can hear, see, and smell their reality.
The only thing that they all have in common is flow and a sense of rhythm.
While the Blackbird Sings
by Dorothy Webb
Silken thread binds
wild and high the blackbird sings
and silken things
to the web a peacock clings
and fragile wings
on gossamer thread a peacock swings
and spider's web
weave a tale in silken thread
from silken thread
is spun a yarn
a spider's song can do no harm
in gossamer web
spider spins his silken thread
and silken thread
tells it's tale -
- the peacocks dead.