Vesper is the Latin for evening were this not to be known; Evensong for the Anglican, a balcony on Rome gracing the rampart Chorale and the marsh valerian. There can be a sunset in the...
When I was a child, I was sent to stay for a while at Broom Hall, my maternal Grandfather’s grey-stone, ivy-strewn Edwardian mansion on the southern edge of Sunningdale, Berkshire. I went there with some...
If you study ‘the vanishing point’ in The Annunciation by Leonardo da Vinci (to my mind, a paradigm for many of the poems in Stainer’s book), you may discern an alp, a high brooding mountain...
This may be one of Khalvati’s most interesting books, replete with some major if paradoxical developments. It has to be said that at first, I thought Khalvati had passed through the abstruse, metaphysical heart of...
To mimic something Dr Johnson was about to say, there are two kinds of poet: those of use to us, and those who are not. To say this is not to attack modernism: arguably, that...
