by Bo Crowder

Five hills of home
My Rome
My funny Palatine
To which all roads
My road at any road
Leads me to mine
Sounds of my past
My gone too fast
My kin my folk
My cake of oat
Lump in my throat
My own
My Stoke


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Bo CrowderWhat I love about poetry is its ability to be both mysterious and inclusive. Sure there are obscure poems that we may not understand but that we find beautiful and there may be poems that we find difficult or just don’t get (like some modern art), but when we find a poem, or a poet, that works for us, it is an inspiring and uplifting experience, a pleasure that ‘fills your boots’.
To put a collection like this together is no mean feat, and to be a part of it is an honour. I think that it is important that we should all take pride in where we come from and to remember  ‘without nostalgia’ the roots that formed us as individuals. – Bo