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	<title>Writing on the Wall</title>
	<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog</link>
	<description>Words by Beverley Fry</description>
	<pubDate>Sat, 12 Apr 2008 07:44:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>A Birthday Poem</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/28</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/28#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 12 Apr 2008 07:43:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Canada Fry
The Father in the photos was removed
Ma had erased him,
though he never was rubbed out of me,
my young life; on the swing, in the chicken pen,
or seeking treasure in the dirt, my father
from a distant sky, when did you die?
Did you ever think ‘my precious girl, Dad’s jewel’?
Was it in the snow, a winter [...]]]></description>
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		<title>February Sonnet</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/27</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/27#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 11 Feb 2008 16:28:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[A heavy load lugged from house to garden
in February’s low-lit heat. A winter days blue sky
shows up between twists of cloth I hang to dry.
Shirts flapping, white sheets snapping
waving rectangles clap for freedom.
escape restrictions, domestic order,
an enclosed life, in them my spirit flies.
Later I pull off pegs, shake out towels,
smell their rough fragrance;
scent sea and [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Silverlit surveillance</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/26</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/26#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Dec 2007 14:14:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[High in The Barns eave’s
from a gnats perspective
blue Fairy, gleams and flashes
fish-like, as it swims among open beams.
Sees anxious faces stare up
listen to the whirr of wings,
watch delicate manoeuvres.
It views us ‘round the
decorated tree, a circle
from above not tall, and spread
below explosions of paper fragments
tinsel-trail to table debris,
and testing detective edges,
a Cluedo game progresses in [...]]]></description>
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		<title>November.</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/25</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/25#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Nov 2007 17:34:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Sharp breath blows out another year,
with loops and tangles it blanket-stitches hay
and thistle down in sparse hedges.
Summer greens drain back to red earth,
leave grasses, dry and wild, to sing out
in sunlit haloes along the forest edge.
Winds spin and scatter leaves, they ginger up our roads,
busy as commuters clear platforms
or gather in café corners.
High tides flatten, [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRSS>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/25/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
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		<title>Song Tree</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/23</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/23#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Oct 2007 19:37:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[At three pm.
chattering bird babble
shakes us from the house,
a flying orchestra,
one thousand morphing birds
swirl and settle in the Ash.
 
A dressing of Starlings
trinket up bare boughs;
notes on a score,
cut out sihouettes
feathers flat and pointing south.
 
This tree-break interval
this high-way rest
for winging minstrels,
one body in their flight
their score and song.
 
A silent siren call,
the branches shift
and shadows lift in [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Plough mans Lunch</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/22</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/22#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Oct 2007 19:30:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Clock watching, at blue mid-day
for lunch he’s heading back
the weighty plough-share rocks the cab
along a stony track.
The top fields turned. she saw him turn
it pink as skin in heat,
and shivers ridges when cloud
shadow’s past her feet.
Up across and down and last
he eased his steady plough,
up beyond the hills dark shrub
etched high upon its brow.
The rising [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRSS>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/22/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
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		<item>
		<title>Between 10pm. and 3</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/21</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/21#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 16 Aug 2007 13:58:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[We are leaning out of windows,
watching them from cars,
hanging wishes on the tails
of a clear night’s shooting stars.
Cuddled in the country
sipping flasks of tea
as meteors escape
their celestial canopy.
Eyes field their acrobatics
vaulting deep space and afar
wizened rocks that fall,
share carbons that we are.
On open stubble ground  
a Vixen passes, sharp eared
hears a thudding sound, 
and smells the hole [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRSS>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/21/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
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		<item>
		<title>Nothing for July</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/19</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/19#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 09 Aug 2007 22:34:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/19</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It rained too much,
the Martins nest’s washed out,
cats got sick. and
no-one passed me close,
disturbed my dust-particles.
So nothing for July.
Truthfully
I was away ten days,
missed the worst
floods and such,.
hit bliss until I burst.
My boy, my son,
one of my treasured mates
met me off the plane.
I guested in the States.
Boston, my favourite artist
Singer Sargents second home,
mine too, and New [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRSS>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/19/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
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		<item>
		<title>Spring Heat</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/18</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/18#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 16 May 2007 16:12:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/18</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m tender with
the soft wind
parting and folding
the young Beach,
and bend
touching the leaves
ribbed underside.
Lay in your hands,
soft as the baby
leafs new down.
 
Am damp in turbulence
with indigo clouds,
dishing their weight
above fields sliced lemon,
with oil seed rape.
Line myself between
the sculpted ridges
of earthed up spuds.
 
And I with the hot land
ache for wet suffusion,
to fill full the crazy fissures
splitting round [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRSS>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/18/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
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		<item>
		<title>Iris bed</title>
		<link>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/17</link>
		<comments>http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/17#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2007 20:26:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bevblog</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Bev's Blog</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.beverleyfry.co.uk/blog/archives/17</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Irregular bent and dry
a pale corolla of
leaves and stems,
fold one into another.
White beaks wove it
with the urgency of Spring,
the Coot pair bob
through water weeds,
reeds and Ladies Smock.
 
She a black incubating eye
crowning her bed,
sat central on the pond.
Hot afternoons
her four white eggs
are given over to
the sun for nurturing .
 
The nest
a lidless vacant stare
without the iris of
her  [...]]]></description>
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