Celandine (@gbclarkson) 's Twitter Profile
Celandine

@gbclarkson

A less tribal politics | Poems: @PoetryMagazine @PoetrySociety @Mslexia @IceFloeP | Books: @ShearsmanBooks @PoetryBusiness @VervePoetryPres @NineArchesPress

ID: 714077088232374273

linkhttps://www.shearsman.com/store/Geraldine-Clarkson-Medlars-p511633254 calendar_today27-03-2016 13:10:19

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Beatrice Groves (@beatricegroves1) 's Twitter Profile Photo

Starry wood avens💛 Once a popular medical flower, its other name - 'Herb Bennet' - is a corruption of 'herba benedicta' (the blessed herb)😇

Starry wood avens💛
Once a popular medical flower, its other name - 'Herb Bennet' - is a corruption of 'herba benedicta' (the blessed herb)😇
The sunny side of Franz Kafka (@amschelkavka) 's Twitter Profile Photo

Today marks 101 years since Kafka passed away. Last year, on the 100th anniversary of his death, we visited his grave in Prague. I placed small stones from Halland, Sweden, on his grave and had a beer outside the Kafka Museum. Sleep well, Franz! I hope it's peaceful. ❤️🕊️

Today marks 101 years since Kafka passed away. Last year, on the 100th anniversary of his death, we visited his grave in Prague.
I placed small stones from Halland, Sweden, on his grave and had a beer outside the Kafka Museum.
Sleep well, Franz! I hope it's peaceful.
❤️🕊️
The sunny side of Franz Kafka (@amschelkavka) 's Twitter Profile Photo

On Kafka’s death day, it feels nice to remember this: In his final year, Kafka lived with Dora, a teacher and seamstress. With her, he found love, calm and joy, and dreamed of opening a small restaurant, serving others as a quiet waiter. ❤️🌞

Celandine (@gbclarkson) 's Twitter Profile Photo

Today the fields are rich in grass, & buttercups in thousands grow; I'll show the world where I have been- With gold-dust seen on either shoe. Till to my garden back I come, Where bumble-bees for hours & hours Sit on their soft, fat, velvet bums, To wriggle out of hollow flowers

Today the fields are rich in grass,
& buttercups in thousands grow;
I'll show the world where I have been-
With gold-dust seen on either shoe.

Till to my garden back I come,
Where bumble-bees for hours & hours
Sit on their soft, fat, velvet bums,
To wriggle out of hollow flowers