The wind she whispered in the trees.
Her voice I heard, but did not heed.
Now my sorrow is sighing with the breeze.
The wind she whispered in the trees.
Her voice I heard, but did not heed.
Now my sorrow is sighing with the breeze.
Many thanks to Maja of The Thoughts And Life Of Me (http://thethoughtsandlifeofme.com/author/masgautsen/) for the below guest post. I have always wished to visit Ireland and Maja’s article rekindles in me the desire to do so.
Kevin
Dublins Writers Museum
I was over the moon when one of my favourite bloggers asked me if I wanted to do a guest post on his blog. Then I realised I had to both come up with something to write about and then I have to actually write it (what have I gotten myself into?). I ended up deciding to give a recommendation for a great place to visit if you are a fan of literature.
Ireland’s Capital Dublin is one of my favourite cities. I’ve been there quite a few times both as a regular tourist and to go over to visit friends and family. Some of whom think I should get a job with their tourist board seeing as it never rains when I’m there so I might be a little biased. As a tourist there are loads to do and see. Dublin has the nicest pubs, the Guinness Museum, the Jameson Distillery, if you decide to do a hop-on-hop-off tour of the city you’ll get to ride through a city that has a lot of literary history.
Right off O’Connell Street, the main shopping street in Dublin on 18 Parnell Square North is the Dublin Writers Museum. It’s inside a lovely Gregorian house. The moment you get in there you are hit with an atmosphere at all the literary genius that the museum presents to you and the artifacts they have collected since opening in 1991.
360 degree view of the gallery
I plugged in the headphones I was given when I got in the door and I immediately entered the magical world of the Irish writers. You wander through the history, life and works of Irish writers like Keats, Yeats, Beckett, Stoker, Joyce, Swift, Wilde, Doyle and many many more. They truly have a wonderful collection of different artifacts from the different writers and the voice-over gives you a lot of information about the writers and the times they lived and did their writing in. The collection of artifacts are mainly downstairs, and here there is also a little cafe. Upstairs there is a wonderful room filled up with shelves of books and a lovely gallery where they sometimes hosts literary events.
I want to end my post not only urging you to visit this lovely little gem of a museum if you should find yourself in Dublin with some time on your hands, but also with a poem that never stops striking a nerve with me:
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
-William Butler Yeats
Source: http://www.dublintourist.com/details/dublin-writers-museum.shtml, http://www.visitdublin.com/dublin-a-to-z/details/dublin-writers-museum/31258/#53.354366|-6.263985|16, http://ireland-calling.com/he-wishes-for-the-cloths-of-heaven/
On returning to London on 13 July, one of the first letters I opened was a document from the British Library’s Legal Deposit archive acknowledging receipt of my book, “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry and Prose”. As explained in my post of 15 May 2015 (http://newauthoronline.com/2015/05/15/legal-deposit-what-is-it-and-are-you-covered/), since 1662 legislation has required that a copy of every print book published in the UK be deposited in the British Library thereby ensuring the preservation of the written word for future generations. In 2013 this requirement was extended to electronic publications in the UK. Its good to know that in some small way I have contributed to the cultural heritage of these islands (he said smiling modestly)!
Homeless hostel
Girl down to her last £5
A man observes, biding his time
An angel dressed in white
appeared to him at night.
filled the dark hours with delight
then came the morning light
she vanished in a trice
Over the past 12 months or so I have noticed something peculiar about WordPress. Today I received a notification that my blog, newauthoronline.com has a new follower. I am, of course always delighted to welcome new readers. However the latest recruit turned out to be someone who has been following this site for some considerable time. I know this as the blogger in question has liked and commented on my posts and I distinctly recollect receiving a previous notification of them following.
Today’s incident is by no means the first time this has happened. I recall one person who regularly liked and commented on my work suddenly disappearing. The person in question was still blogging but was no longer reading my posts. Had I said something with which they so profoundly disagreed they had ceased to follow me? All was explained when I received a communication from the blogger in question saying that I had, for some reason disappeared from their Reader and they had now added me.
Now it is possible for people to accidentally click on the unsubscribe link. However given the number of instances where someone who I know is already a follower suddenly refollows my blog I can only conclude that a WordPress glitch is at the bottom of this mystery. Has anyone else experienced the mystery of the disappearing (only to reappear) follower?
Kevin
When the partys over and deflated balloons litter the floor,
Will you in joyous tones cry out for more?
As the final guest, their face a mask slinks out the door,
Will you in a hearty voice exclaim, “this way of life I adore?”
When lingering odours of celebration sicken and appall,
Will you with equanimity the night’s events recall?
I agree with the author as regards the second question. I don’t give a fig concerning the author’s gender. The only reason for choosing a book is that it falls within my area of interest/curiosity. Indeed I don’t pay any attention to the gender of writers when selecting books to read. Kevin
Fleeting moments of joy,
With repetition begin to cloy.
Endless pleasure seeking will the self destroy.
Heels and skirts,
Man’s sense does him desert,
Heels and skirts.
Heels and skirts,
Nothing can his lust avert,
At the sight of heels and skirts.
Heels and skirts,
Money thrown upon the dirt,
Stupidity will always hurt,
Heels and skirts.