bookseeker agency

a platform for artistic enterprise

p o box 7535, perth, ph2 1af, scotland

bookseeker[a]blueyonder.co.uk

acting for:

 

Lesley Haycock, artist – Marie Marshall, poet

 

Apples – bright as flame!

You children of the blessed tree,

With branches full; towards the ground

You’re pulled by august gravity,

So ripe, so rich, so round.

 

Apples – red as shame!

You beacons of fecundity

Amongst the dark-green leaves; you’re found

A-sway in all that melody –

The branches sighing sound.

 

Apples – sharp as pain!

The juice of love is tempting me

To take the woman, leafy-gowned,

In blushing, scarlet harlotry,

And green-and-yellow-crowned.

 

Apples – fresh as rain!

My hands reach out to pluck you free,

To build a joyful, tumbling mound,

To roll you with a juggler’s glee –

Fresh pippins by the pound!

 

Lesley Haycock is an artist from Fife,  who has a remarkable talent for painting. Her range includes portraiture, boldly-coloured

nature pictures, and abstracts. She has exhibited, and received praise for the diversity of her work, along with many commissions. 

Other reviews have used such words as “unique”, “breathtaking”, and “stunning”.

 

Marie Marshall is a poet from Tayside. She has been called “one of the two or three best formalist poets currently writing”.

Her work has appeared in magazines and anthologies. She specialises in the English sonnet, but uses other forms of verse such

as Sapphic and haiku, as well as free verse.

 

This web-site exists to give each of them a small showcase, to present to gallery-owners, publishers, and other interested parties.

Some of Lesley’s paintings and Marie’s poems have been placed together on this site. Enjoy!

 

Anyone who may be interested, please contact us at the address above.

 

 

It’s a spring thing                                   

 

“Look at me!” Narcissus calls…

…his trumpet fades.

 

When May comes his beauty falls…

…’midst summer shades.

 

Echoing tree-columned halls…

…nymph of the glades.

 

 

NB    all images, poetry, and other material on this site are subject to copyright

 

                      

 

          Your savage alchemy

 

How you are turning me from lead to gold,

Your magick, and your savage alchemy,

Your little gift of miracles – Behold! –

The mysteries of your philosophy.

 

How selflessly your love keeps me alive,

Your charm, that strange and unseen talisman,

Your faith, without which I could not survive,

The spells which whisper to me, “Yes, you can!”

 

How you break in and wake me from my dream,

Your scent, your lilting voice, your gentle touch,

Your memory – that current flows upstream –

The little soapstone netsuke I clutch…

 

What is this alchemy, through which I live?

Why do you work this craft and, taking, give?