Tag: Doris Lessing

  • ‘Fable’ and ‘Oh Cherry Trees You are Too White For My Heart’ by Doris Lessing

    Originally posted on Poethead by Chris Murray: Fable When I look back I seem to remember singing. Yet it was always silent in that long warm room. Impenetrable, those walls, we thought, Dark with ancient shields.The light Shone on the head of a girl or young limbs Spread carelessly. And the low voices Rose in…

  • There will always be singing; an appreciation of Doris Lessing

    Fable When I look back I seem to remember singing. Yet it was always silent in that long warm room. Impenetrable, those walls , we thought, Dark with ancient shields. The light Shone on the head of a girl or young limbs Spread carelessly. And the low voices Rose in the silence and were lost…

  • A note from Olivia Guest at Jonathan Clowes Ltd.

    Doris Lessing died a matter of days after I had received permission to carry some of the poems from her Fourteen Poems on this site indefinitely. I had put up the following note and message and see no reason to remove it. I am happy that I have carried her work for a few years.  I wrote a…

  • Doris Lessing’s Poems

    Olivia Guest of Jonathan Clowes Ltd. has informed me today that they are willing to extend my Doris Lessing licence and so I have returned the poems here. Thanks to Olivia and Jonathan Clowes for an extended opportunity to share Doris Lessing’s work on Poethead.    I spent some time in 2011 looking for permission to…

  • ‘Fable’ and ‘Oh Cherry Trees You are Too White For My Heart’ by Doris Lessing

    Fable When I look back I seem to remember singing. Yet it was always silent in that long warm room. Impenetrable, those walls, we thought, Dark with ancient shields.The light Shone on the head of a girl or young limbs Spread carelessly. And the low voices Rose in the silence and were lost as in…

  • Poems by Doris Lessing.

    Fable When I look back I seem to remember singing. Yet it was always silent in that long warm room. Impenetrable, those walls, we thought, Dark with ancient shields.  The light Shone on the head of a girl or young limbs Spread carelessly. And the low voices Rose in the silence and were lost as…

  • A Saturday Woman Writer , Doris Lessing.

    I have referred here before to the book that creeps me out the most,The Fifth Child , indeed I took down my copy again last night to read up for today’s post; but I ended up deweeding the garden where my tree was being invaded by a parasitic  alien Clematis, and my rose’s roots being pushed…