UA Fanthorpe’s poems remind me a little of Elizabeth Jennings because they are so personal & deeply felt. They do however seem a bit more angular, waspish maybe, angst-ridden even
I do enjoy Dear True Love, in which she gently, but exasperatedly, tells her true love that, really, she does not need twelve whole days worth of Christmas gifts – one ring will do:
Hens, colly birds, doves –
A gastronome’s treat.
But love, I did tell you,
I’ve given up meat.
Your fairy-tale presents
Are wasted on me.
Just send me your love
And set all the birds free
