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PULL OF THE EARTH
This is Jenna’s second full collection. Her poems have appeared in Reach Poetry, The Dawntreader and Sarasvati, Aspire, Poetry Cornwall, Labour of Love, Purple Patch, First Time, Areopagus Artemis and The Cannons Mouth.
She has contributed to several anthologies including Heart Shoots in aid of Macmillan Cancer Support 2013 and Inspired by my Museum 2014.
Jenna was Highly Commended in the Hastings International Poetry Competition 2012 and in Aspire Open Competition 2012. She was been highly commended in the Geoff Stevens memorial prize in 2013 and again in 2014.
Her career in counselling and psychotherapy and her love of the natural world give her poetry its distinctive voice. She was a potter and is an active gardener, opening her two-acre woodland garden as a member of the Quiet Garden Trust. A small collection of her prayer poems was published in 2004 and is available from the Quiet Garden website. In 2014 she published a collection of contemplative poetry in aid of a local charity.
She lives in Worcestershire with her husband, and has two children and four grandchildren.
138 x 216mm
£8.99 + P&P UK
PUB: MARCH 2016
This collection is a celebration of the natural world. It falls into two sections, a series of poems that explore the poet’s reactions to travelling to ‘places where your spirit soars’ and a second section that examines the small and unremarkable things around her and illuminates them.
“Clear and reflective as a rock pool, these often short and sometimes deceptively simple poems, offer a whole new perspective on travel. From Nepal to Orkney via Paris the ‘eye’ and ‘I’ of a poet who is not afraid to explore the depths within, as well as other more geographically distant places, are unobtrusively present.
"Unpretentious and accurate, Jenna Plewes gives you pictures of a range of subjects – states of mind, landscapes, as well as foreign parts. Like all true poets Plewes is able to realise afresh the magic that lies hidden in the banal, the everyday.
Postcards from Nepal
Off the Beaten Track
A small hand holds mine
our arms swing, our strides match
flip-flops and walking boots
school bag and rucksack.
Our hands and faces talk,
like a mountain stream
round boulders of misunderstanding.
In the village, men talk crops and cattle
fingers trading information
oxen, paddy-fields and cows
no words for tractor, milking parlour, pesticides.
Women talk children, hold up fingers, smile,
one lady strokes my palm, touches my hair
with hands like wrinkled bark.
We look into each other’s lives, she’s half my age.
That night the village comes to us,
a rope of music binds us;
we circle, hand in hand
under a blaze of stars
our paths have met
we have the same dust on our skin.
Twelve billion miles away
something of us
speeds through interstellar space
miles an hour
faster than we can think
travels with billions of stars
cloudy as milk
through plasma waves
beyond our bubble sheath
towards a wall of space.
Something of us
sees the planets differently aligned
tells us our sun is dim
our voice is faint