Q:1. How did you decide on what poems to send?

When Alan asked for nature poems, I got the impression he wanted something rugged – but my existing nature poems were mostly lyrical. We’d just had a big storm (I live inland from the sea across grassy dunes, wind rages through the neighbouring pines ) so I started writing something new. Then I remembered a poem I’d written about the strange and wonderful, ever-changing but somehow still unchanging salt marsh, here where we both live, in Southport – it was longer than most publishers accept and I hadn’t really tried submitting it because of that – Alan confirmed that he was open to lyrical and I sent him ‘Larks Attending’ and a rather wistful tree poem by way of contrast, but also offered to write the storm. Happily, he plumped for the larks. I’m really pleased he chose it as it’s one of my favourite walks in nature and the larks are a seasonal joy.

Q:2. What poetic form did it take, and why?

‘Larks Attending ‘ is a re-creation of an experience in its own rhythm and nature. Its free form captures, I hope, the pace and motion I experienced on the particular salt marsh walk on the particular day that inspired me. I think anything more formal would have been too constrained, especially for the fizzing larks and the leaping loper.

Q:3. How did you use the whiteness of the page in your poem?

There was no conscious use of white (or, in the case of draft one, cream with blue lines contained in a notebook!) space with this poem, so perhaps see it as just words being my footsteps on a pre existing path.

Q:4. How did you decide on the title of your poem?

The title came immediately, summoned by the wonderful piece , ‘The Lark Ascending ‘ by Ralph Vaughan Williams, which evokes an individual lark’s ascent so sensuously. The breeding grounds on our salt marsh and the dunes behind the beaches shelter many larks whose combined ascent is more effusive than that of a lone nest’s guardian, but equally captivating.

Q:5. Imagery, or narrative. Which was more important to you in writing the poem?

A walk, related from start to finish, is inevitably strongly narrative, but imagery makes it the poem you now see. If I had to plump for one, I suppose it would have to be narrative because without the walk, there would be no poem.

Q:6. What do you think of where your poem is placed in the collection?

Neither ending nor beginning, that’s a good place to be. Yes, I like being among. And it feels as if my poem marks a shift in style or tone, a contrast with much of what has gone before.  It’s always good to be useful! To misquote William Morris: ‘Have nothing in your pamphlet that you do not know to be beautiful or believe to be useful.’

Q:7. Once they have read your poem, what do you hope the reader will leave with?

A smile.

Bios and Links

Mary Earnshaw

lives between England’s northwest coast and Lancashire’s mosslands. Her poetry, short fiction, and non-fiction have been published in a variety of print anthologies and journals. She’s been shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize and the Julian Lennon Poetry Prize and is a featured author in Black Bough Poetry’s ‘Silver Branch’ series

https://www.blackboughpoetry.com/mary-earnshaw  With three other Merseyside poets, she co-authored Belisama, published by Dreich, which won a competition for a ‘new alliance’ of poets.

Since 1993 Mary’s accompanied many archaeological expeditions in Zambia, inspiring her crime fiction novel, A Wake of Vultures. published by Cosi & Veyn (imprint of a small academic press, she was then running). A fan of letterpress printing and typesetting, she’s produced two handcrafted pamphlets: a retelling of Hans Andersen’s Little Match Girl (sold out) and Three Winter Tales of Darkness and Light. Mary recently completed a book based around visiting monastic ruins, which she describes as ‘a guilt trip, not a guidebook.’