‘There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.’

My poetry Blog this week is all about snow and snow poetry.
At the beginning of February, I Welcomed in Spring, with a spray of daffodils and St Bridget’s crosses and the Pagan wheel of seasonal festivals

Poetic with a Spring Snowfall

I have never written a poem about snow, why?
Probably because, here on the Wild Atlantic Way, snow is not among our most commonest weather conditions.
We are more accustomed to wild, gusty prevailing winds,
well dampened with frequent rain, but who is complaining?
This just adds to the breath-taking beauty of the land where I sojourn.

Looking out at the seer beauty of rolling contours appearing in absolute
Black and white, I was driven into pure poetic mode.
This time not to write but to read Poetry

Poetry from Co. Down

I Was so excited to lay my hands on the poem Snow, by Louis MacNeice,
It got me thinking about how often, we do not notice what is going on around us.
The snow has a way of getting our instant attention, connecting, and equating our inner world with the elements, separated only by a window
Though MacNeice says, ‘Sometimes there is more than glass between..’
Louis MacNeice, born in Belfast 1907, though both of his parents, originally from County Galway in The West of Ireland.
He was deceased in 1963 and is laid to rest with his mother in Carrowdore churchyard in County Down.

Play write and poet, educated at Marlborough College after earning a classical scholarship. The social structure in the college was cruel and hierarchical,  he did not relish his time there.
He later attended Oxford, where he majored in classics and philosophy.
In 1930, he married Giovanna Ezra and accepted a post as lecturer in classics
He Created a large body of work, which was widely appreciated by the public during his lifetime,

What was the poet Thinking?

The poem Snow, heightens the senses to the world around,
Objects appear outside the window in black and white except for the
The pinkness of the rose. We are drawn outwards to reflect within,
Louis MacNeice, wrote the perfect poem for-
A snowy afternoon, February 2021 in Covid Lockdown

The room was suddenly rich, and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes–
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of your hands–
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
By Louis MacNeice