Christina Rossetti goes against the Victorian expectations of meek and delicate femininity, to deliver a bold message to a hopeful suitor.
Continue reading “Featured Poem: No, Thank You, John by Christina Rossetti”
Building a Reading Revolution
Christina Rossetti goes against the Victorian expectations of meek and delicate femininity, to deliver a bold message to a hopeful suitor.
Continue reading “Featured Poem: No, Thank You, John by Christina Rossetti”
A poem this morning from one of our favourite poets, Christina Rossetti. This week we’re reading From Sunset to Star Rise.
Continue reading “Featured Poem: From Sunset to Star Rise by Christina Rossetti”
Today’s Featured Poem is Sonnets are full of love by Christina Rossetti, which appears in her collection A Pageant and Other Poems.
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This week our Featured Poem is Uphill by Christina Rossetti.
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A look back at a piece from our founder and director Jane Davis from earlier this year. We were delighted to welcome Parkrun founder Paul Sinton-Hewitt to Calderstones in March, Jane reflected on his visit on her blog, starting as always with the daily poem:
Continue reading “Jane’s Blog: Later life, running and reading”
We enjoy a touch of the Romantic this week with a Featured poem from one of the most enduring Victorian poets, Christina Rossetti.
Continue reading “Featured Poem: I wish I could remember that first day by Christina Rossetti”
October has arrived and with it, the chillier days of Autumn. The golden and falling leaves provide us with a last flurry of colour before the greyer winter months set in, and although the season might start to signal that ‘all the world is on the wane’, as Christina Rossetti puts it, it’s a good time to get outside and breath in that autumnal air before there’s too much rain to dampen the enjoyment.
An October Garden
In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses;
Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses
To Autumn’s languid sun and rain
When all the world is on the wane!
Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June,
Nor heard the nightingale in tune.
Broad-faced asters by my garden walk,
You are but coarse compared with roses:
More choice, more dear that rosebud which uncloses
Faint-scented, pinched, upon its stalk,
That least and last which cold winds balk;
A rose it is though least and last of all,
A rose to me though at the fall.
Christina Rossetti