Showing results by narrator "Ghizela Rowe" in All Categories

August - the eighth month of the year in the Gregorian calendar and the full palette of nature is on glorious display. Our poets, Wordsworth, Swinburne, Alford, Riley, and Hardy, describe and reveal their thoughts on the month and notable dates within it.

Elizabeth Stevenson was born in Chelsea in London on 29th September 1810. Both parents embedded their strong Unitarian beliefs into Elizabeth who rebelliously was often reluctant to display these religious convictions. The early death of Elizabeth’s mother saw her sent away to be brought up by her maternal aunt in Knutsford, Cheshire. Her father remarried but Elizabeth spent most of her childhood in Cheshire away from her father and his new family. Elizabeth’s aunt encouraged her education and particularly to read and express herself through writing.

Whilst Europe endured the Dark Ages in the 6th & 7th Centuries, devotees of Shiva and Vishnu in Southern India were creating the Bhakti Movement. Some of these exponents, as in our volume, were bestowed with the title of saint but some had the additional title of sant, swami or goswami. Broadly speaking, Bhakti poetry, as in Hinduism itself, is divided into ‘Nirguna’, the idea that the divine is formless as exampled by Kabir and ‘Saguna’, which interprets the divine as having physical form as captured by Mirabai.

O Henry is perhaps the master of the American short story across his 600 works. Slices of life, vignettes of narrative are told with verve and poise and words that simply flow as he wanders through society revealing characters and stories of instant appeal.

Willa Sibert Cather was born on 7th December, 1873 on her grandmother's farm in the Back Creek Valley near Winchester, Virginia. After several years and moves the family eventually settled in Red Cloud, Nebraska and for the first time Cather could now attend school. In Red Cloud, Cather had her earliest writings published in the local Red Cloud Chief newspaper. Her time in the mid-West created a vivid tranche of experiences for the young woman.

Arthur Conan Doyle was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, on 22nd May 1859. His literary career burst into life in November 1886 with ‘A Study In Scarlet’, the first of the fabulously successful Sherlock Holmes stories. In 1891 tired of writing Holmes stories, he began a series of historical novels and even went so far as to apparently kill off Holmes in a lethal brawl with his arch-nemesis, Moriarty.

Christmas may come but once a year but evil, intrigue and malevolence are everyday events. Within this volume Christmas is a time when these dark forces form and coalesce to take life and liberty from people who may and who may not deserve the spin of its wheel. Some are merely evil, others have the beginnings of a conscience that displays itself in a dialogue with the devil, or perhaps only themselves. But, in this volume Christmas takes a ringside seat to the horrors of the human heart.

All's Well That Ends Well is set mainly in France and at the court of the King in Paris. Helena, the daughter of a talented and reputable doctor, goes to attend to the king who is severely ill. She successfully cures him, and in return, he offers her the hand of any man of her choosing. She asks for Count Bertrand, whom she has always loved. But he is appalled by the match, as she is lowly born. Helena is as resourceful as she is beautiful and contrives to make a good husband of Bertrand.

The question is asked by each of us, but the answer remains elusive. Dictionaries summon up many words, but none fulfill. Love itself is often ethereal, felt but only seen in a glance, a look, a fleeting touch. Part of love’s beauty is perhaps in the fact that the question never can be adequately answered; it's ephemeral, a chimera of the heart and only felt. Our own experiences are unique and personal to ourselves and of little help defining it for another.

Poetry is often cited as our greatest use of words. The English language has well over a million of them and poets down the ages seem, at times, to make use of every single one. But often they use them in simple ways to describe anything and everything from landscapes to all aspects of the human condition. Poems can evoke within us an individual response that takes us by surprise, that opens our ears and eyes to very personal feelings.

March - the third month of the year in the Gregorian calendar brings with it the Spring Equinox and the promise of warmer days and shorter nights. Our selected poets, including Swift, Yeats, Morris, Swinburne, and Austin, of course provide the words to match the mood.

The human form is familiar to all of us. We like limbs connected to bodies. Writers of the dark and macabre are not too concerned if that remains the case. Indeed limbs, or rather pieces of the body, sometimes are best written about when not connected. It’s one of our greatest fears. It quite rightly riddles us with a very unsettling feeling. So why then do we turn the page? We’re about to find out.

Marguerite Radclyffe-Hall was born on August 12th, 1880 to wealthy parents who separated while she was still an infant. Her parents thereafter paid little attention to her. Hall was educated privately, and then at King’s College London. Later she travelled to Europe, settling in Dresden, Germany. With the death of her paternal grandfather she inherited a large estate and was then able to live as she pleased. In Germany, Hall met Mabel Batten and fell in love despite the 23 year age difference.

Victoria’s reign was long and presided over the restless expansion of the British Empire and reams of creative genius. Within these volumes we can bring only a glimpse of the richness, beauty and words of the poets and their musings on this remarkable age. Many are world-renowned - Tennyson, Browning, Arnold, Kipling, Austin, Hopkins, Hardy and Swinburne. Some are almost forgotten - Patmore, Newbolt, Synge. And some are barely noted - Lyall, Meynell and Merdeith. But together they encompass a great poetical age.

Poetry is often cited as our greatest use of words. The English language has well over a million of them and poets down the ages seem, at times, to make use of every single one. But often they use them in simple ways to describe anything and everything from landscapes to all aspects of the human condition. Poems can evoke within us an individual response that takes us by surprise, that opens our ears and eyes to very personal feelings.

Thought of as the first modern writer for children, Edith Nesbit also wrote for adults, producing more than 50 books in total. Like many consummate writers who yearn to be recognised as poets, her other works are given greater recognition. Now, in this volume, you be the judge. These poems are brought to your ears by Ghizela Rowe and Richard Mitchley.

William Pett Ridge was born at Chartham, near Canterbury, Kent, on 22 April 1859. His family’s resources were certainly limited. His father was a Railway Porter, and the young Pett Ridge, after schooling in Marden, Kent became a Clerk in a railway clearing-house. The hours were long and arduous, but self-improvement was Pett Ridge’s goal. After working from nine until seven o’clock he would attend evening classes at Birkbeck Literary and Scientific Institute to follow his passion: the ambition to write.

Charlotte Mary Mew was born on 15th November, 1869 in London to professional parents her father was responsible for the design of Hampstead Town Hall. Charlotte, one of seven children, three of whom died in early childhood, was educated at Lucy Harrison's School for Girls and attended lectures at University College, London.

Here, in this volume history’s greatest poets convey thoughts, feelings and sentiments of love to you in quick (or bite-size) conversations of verse that can slip into your day and your partner's heart.

What is love? The question is asked by each of us, but the answer remains elusive. Dictionaries summon up many words, but none fulfill. Love itself is often ethereal, felt but only seen in a glance, a look, a fleeting touch. Part of love’s beauty is perhaps in the fact that the question never can be adequately answered; it's ephemeral, a chimera of the heart and only felt. Our own experiences are unique and personal to ourselves and of little help defining it for another. Love is perhaps best expressed through poetry.