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Madeleine Emerald Thiele

The Victorian Butterfly muses upon Art, Angels & other stuff in between.

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Poetry

MCMXIV by Philip Larkin

Those long uneven lines Standing as patiently As if they were stretched outside The Oval or Villa Park, The crowns of hats, the sun On moustached archaic faces Grinning as if it were all An August Bank Holiday lark; And... Continue Reading →

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Commentary on a Pastiche: Flowers and Disruption

Throughout the writing of this pastiche, I was very conscious of what my aims and objectives were. It is difficult to emulate someone's style without feeling the threat of plagiarism. I tried not to refer to any of Strindberg's works... Continue Reading →

Bedouin Burdens

Her womb had become barren a little too soon, So her husband set search for a child bearing wife. He would watch the tribes, with eyes as bright as the moon, for Arabian charms and a young virgin life. She... Continue Reading →

Commentary on a Narrative Poem: Bedouin Burdens

I find the colour and diversity of the Middle East and Africa something close to delicious and I admire the people's ability to cope with poverty in such a dignified, religious manner. There is no sense of the trauma that... Continue Reading →

Why Did She?

After sickness, angels' pinions did claim Your body had been divinely summoned. Here dam'd on earth I was but imprisoned You by my side was now not to remain. Still I am your weak slave, your grave my shrine For... Continue Reading →

Commentary on a Sonnet: Why Did She?

One story my Nan recently told me stuck in my mind, she said that she believed my grandad had visited her from the grave and how he had said "Why did you..." This intrigued me somewhat and the more I... Continue Reading →

And Yet I

As time rolls on I still sing for you, as time falls past I still mourn for you. Through the moonlit nights and under the wind shaken trees, I still   Call for you.   As the seasons pass and... Continue Reading →

Commentary on a Lyric Poem: And Yet I

I wanted to write a lyric poem about the sense of loss that is often experienced through a lost relationship. This is a conventional theme, which is in danger of falling prey to cliche, however, I try to avoid a... Continue Reading →

The Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse by Matthew Arnold

  Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from Saint Laurent goes. The bridge is cross'd, and slow we ride, Through forest, up the mountain-side. The autumnal evening... Continue Reading →

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