poetry

Open Hearts & Joyous Leaves

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Thank you to all the elders who shelter and nurture new growth. And again to the wonderful Amy Lowell for her inspirational poetry.

Enjoy this short film (2mins) of beech trees and golden leaves. 

Beech Tree

 

You are like the stem

Of a young beech-tree,

Straight and swaying,

Breaking out in golden leaves.

Your walk is like the blowing of a beech-tree

On a hill.

Your voice is like leaves

Softly struck upon by a South wind.

Your shadow is no shadow, but a scattered sunshine;

And at night you pull the sky down to you

And hood yourself in stars.

 

From the poem ‘Generations’ by Amy Lowell. First published 1919 in Pictures of the Floating World.


"Amy Lawrence Lowell (1874 – 1925) was an American poet of the imagist school from Brookline, Massachusetts.” Wikipedia

Ducks in the Docks and Swans Swimming

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A short film (2m56s) featuring those fabulous swans and ducks from Bristol docks swimming to our song ‘Flint’.

‘Flint’ is now also available to listen and watch on our Vimeo page here. We hope you enjoy it!

The poem by Christina Rossetti was first published in her book Sing-Song in 1893.

Flint

by Christina Rossetti

An emerald is as green as grass,
A ruby red as blood;
A sapphire shines as blue as heaven;
A flint lies in the mud.

A diamond is a brillant stone,
To catch the world's desire;
An opal holds a fiery spark;
But a flint holds fire.

 

Music by Red Deer Sleeping

An English Breeze

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In November we released our ‘Autumn' EP and made some films which were posted the following week to all of you who came to the EP launch. Thanks again for your support. These films are now available for everyone to watch on our Vimeo page here. For those who missed the EP launch we hope you enjoy the films. Here is the first track, ‘An English Breeze’.  

Happy New Year! x o x 

UP with the sun, the breeze arose,
Across the talking corn she goes,
And smooth she rustles far and wide
Through all the voiceful countryside.

Through all the land her tale she tells;
She spins, she tosses, she compels
The kites, the clouds, the windmill sails
And all the trees in all the dales.

(From the poem 'An English Breeze' by Robert Louis Stevenson)