I have loved Wendy Cope’s poetry forever. Irreverent, profound and keenly observant, she speaks to my romantic, damaged heart. Here are a couple of her poems for you to check out:

After the lunch

On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes,

The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.

I wipe them away with a black woolly glove

And try not to notice I’ve fallen in love.

On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:

This is nothing. You’re high on the charm and the drink.

But the juke-box inside me is playing a song

That says something different. And when was it wrong?

On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair

I am tempted to skip. You’re a fool. I don’t care.

The head does its best but the heart is the boss —

I admit it before I am halfway across.

The Orange
At lunchtime I bought a huge orange —
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled and shared it with Robert and Dave —
They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I’m glad I exist.

Valentine  

My heart has made its mind up

And I’m afraid it’s you.

Whatever you’ve got lined up,

My heart has made its mind up

And if you can’t be signed  up

This year, next year will do.

My heart has made its mind up

And I’m afraid  it’s you.

– Wendy Cope

Do you have a favourite poet? Apart from Wendy, I have a real thing for e.e cummings and Philip Larkin. Have always loved T.S.Eliot and The Paris Review is bursting with obscure, contemporary work that just kills me with its lucidity.