They Told Me That Your Name Was Fontybell

Hi there! Over the coming months, I will be setting a collection of poems which I wrote using only fridge magnets entitled They Told Me That Your Name Was Fontybell. When the score is finished, I will post it here and shortly afterwards I hope to make a recording, which I will also make freely available. Here is the text of the poems:

I. Between every red summer & harsh heavy winter, a soft frosty rustle in an ornamental wind rock said of the exotic morning bouquet only dead exploded murmurs coloured like a tree trunk and blisteringly quiet; but I almost wilt on fertile soil to see the sun roll off my cat (though she soon coaxes it out of shades).

II. I withered as a moist mossy stone let flower when there burst through tranquil light my full spring song like water blooming so hot beneath sweet ripe fruit, always blue with sacred secret love from earthly life.

III. A blanket could breathe this night; if air is live rain above cloud and garden bush we struggle at nature, never fresh; for listen; peace.

IV. Cut vegetable works, then thrive.

V. Have you nothing, who strollest? Why ask? Some wild yellow trowel-berry clump must reflect you, worm-killer, brown rose, weed, plant manure.

VI. He would dig me up by hand come Fall, but protect our tendril cellar, which longed after an house-pot sanctuary. Temperature was here; relax; eat; grow; do sprout; make him green; did that say bulb-hole?

VII. Use firm root-bug species; they shine more.

VIII. Ground hard yard path too; how has kid bee conditions? Be at leave about eden vine; will climb.

Wish me luck!


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