In his poem, [little tree], e e cummings imagines the spangles that sleep all year in a dark box dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine, the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads Today, we are thinking of spangles from the year. You can write about things from the year … Continue reading Spangles

The Smell of …..

Smell is hard to describe. When we mention a smell, we usually just use the name of the thing that is giving off that smell – lavender, coffee, banana, even, chip shop. Smell is brilliantly evocative. I smell coal tar soap and think of my father; sterilised milk, that is my Great Aunt Addie. Smell … Continue reading The Smell of …..