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Rosy Cole

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Rosy Cole was born and educated in the Shires of England. Her writing career started in her teens. Four apprentice works eventually led to publication of two novels. Life intervened, but she returned to authorship in 2004. She has worked as a Press Officer and Publisher's Reader. Among widespread interests, she lists history, opera, musicals, jazz, the arts, drawing and painting, gemmology, homoeopathy and alternative therapies. Theology also is an abiding interest. As a singer, she's performed alongside many renowned musicians and has run a music agency which specialised in themed 'words-and-music' programmes, bringing her two greatest passions together. Rosy's first book of poetry, THE TWAIN, Poems of Earth and Ether, was published in April 2012, National Poetry Month, and two other collections are in preparation. As well as the First and Second Books in the Berkeley Series, she has written several other historical titles and one of literary fiction. She is currently working on the Third Book in the Berkeley Series. All her books are now published under the New Eve imprint. Rosy lives in West Sussex with her son, Chris, and her Labrador cross, Poppy, who keeps a firm paw on the work-and-walkies schedule!

Home From Abroad


Celebrating the birth on June 26th, 1914, of Laurie Lee, a few weeks before the outbreak of World War I. After that, there was no returning to anything resembling the life and assumptions of previous eras. He was an English traveller, poet, soldier, novelist and screenwriter, from the glorious Cotswold county of Gloucestershire who later lived in Kent, once dubbed 'the Garden of England' for its fruitfulness. An inspired wordsmith, the landscape of his upbringing was set to inform, often by contrast, his vivid perception of everywhere else, enlisting all the human senses and sensitivities. On a personal note, I think I have not read a more luminous writer, one who cuts with originality to the quick of situations. His work has clear resonance for humanity as whole.





Far-fetched with tales of other worlds and ways,
My skin well-oiled with wines of the Levant,
I set my face into a filial smile
To greet the pale, domestic kiss of Kent.

But shall I never learn? That gawky girl,
Recalled so primly in my foreign thoughts,
Becomes again the green-haired queen of love
Whose wanton form dilates as it delights.

Her rolling tidal landscape floods the eye
And drowns Chianti in a dusky stream;
The flower-flecked grasses swim with simple horses,
The hedges choke with roses fat as cream.

So do I breathe the hayblown airs of home,
And watch the sea-green elms drip birds and shadows,
And as the twilight nets the plunging sun
My heart’s keel slides to rest among the meadows.

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On The Birthday Of W B Yeats, A Reflection...




I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Of all Yeats' poems, this antidote to homesickness is the most quoted and seems to resonate with the widest audience. It is said he was striding along London's hectic Fleet Street when he heard the silvery tinkling of water. There, in a shop window, he caught sight of a little fountain with a crystal ball bobbing atop its jet. A yearning for the lakes of the Emerald Isle overwhelmed him. His imagination conjured the gentle lap of waves echoing the rhythms of the heart’s core.
The diverting complexities of urban life can be difficult to process.  We speak of the energy of the city, how it may inspire and drive. We do not speak of aridity and distraction, how it lures us away from resolution and the eternity within where we may commune with the earth and the cleansing vibrations of nature, our Creator’s gift.
This poem hums with resolution. Whether it is of the spirit, or actual, as was the case with Henry Thoreau, does not matter. The source of the water, the reviving balm, is tapped.

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The Lime Tree Bower

And here it is...


 Photo taken at Coleridge's house in Nether Stowey, 2017

 Oh, Coleridge, with his zoom in and out lens playing hide and seek with perspective and emotion. In his poems as in life!

 Yet, thanks to Stephen, we have the poet's poignantly observed excerpt which extols not only nature and the Creator, but displays the beauty of the English language. 

 In contrast with his brooding, the teeming consolations of the foreground are rendered in such exquisite detail as would certainly have been swamped by his rapid effusions of thought in company with his friends on that longed-for path.

O Coleridge, O Sehnsucht, O gleam of Joy! Where is thy prison?


Recent Comments
Stephen Evans
One of the places I have to see!
Tuesday, 16 April 2024 23:01
Rosy Cole
I like it better than many a stately home full of portraits and porcelain. It speaks volumes about the real tenor of life at Nethe... Read More
Thursday, 18 April 2024 18:41
219 Hits

Gold Dust



On Ash Wednesday, a day of the week that is, nevertheless, one of Glorious Mysteries in the Rosary of Our Lady


Ashed in the morning
bewilders the world
Ashed in the evening
the mirror reflects

our lone and frantic
long-suffering dust
destined for shining
in some other sphere

Turn, rediscover
the fork in the path
The Way not taken
Hail the difference!





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Writing For Life

We are a small, friendly community who value writing as a tool for developing a brighter understanding of the world and humanity. We share our passions and experiences with one another and with a public readership. ‘Guest’ comments are welcome. No login is required. In Social Media we are happy to include interesting articles by other writers on any of the themes below. Enjoy!

Latest Blogs

  Celebrating the birth on June 26th, 1914, of Laurie Lee, a few weeks before the outbreak of World War I. After that, there was no returnin...
  THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows...
I am re-reading Richard Ellman's fine biography of W. B. Yeats. Unlike so many biographies, even by Ellmann (see Joyce and Wilde), this one is fa...

Latest Comments

Ken Hartke Farthest Horizons and Lost Books
19 July 2024
I might add my name with "If found, please return to..." My daughter is a museum curator/archivist ...
Rosy Cole Farthest Horizons and Lost Books
19 July 2024
Hunting lost books is one of those lesser rites of passage among those of a very certain age. Your i...
Rosy Cole Montmartre 2023
19 July 2024
Quite apart from the extra crowds, sports events seem to bring out the worst in folk. Nationalism te...
Ken Hartke Montmartre 2023
18 July 2024
I had a mixed experience in Paris and need a better approach and expectation. After some thought, I ...
Rosy Cole LandSea Divide
27 June 2024
I've been at it for half a century, Nicholas, and I'm still learning! :-) Truly. It was always my ho...