Poetry has command of the theatrical, the romantic and the comic. She has the strength to trumpet a call to arms and the sensibility to carry the tenderest thoughts of a shy lover. She speaks to nations and to individuals, drawing them together with rainbow threads of language, mood and imagery. She creates a bond which links us all, one to another, as we read silently or aloud, listen collectively or alone. I am thinking in particular of the writings of the war poets who gather people together under the cover of collective responsibility and shared history.
Poetry can inspire, move and stir to action.
She can also lift the spirits of a dejected soul, enabling it to soar above the mundane and the maddening. She can make us roar out loud at amusing observations of everyday absurdities. Roger McGough was the first poet to make me laugh and humorous lines were my children's introduction to poetry. My first attempts were the jottings of a teenager in love, out of love, or bemoaning unrequited love. Later the powerless pleadings and protestations against the war and famine in Ethiopia and expressions of grief and abandonment on the death of my father.