I recently wrote about the current St Pancras Poet Laureate (and the person who I like to think of as the Rambles of a Writer‘s own laureate) Ide Crawford. Now, don’t get me wrong – her poetry is very impressive, especially in view if her tender years. You can find one of her most recent poems here: https://wordsforthewild.co.uk/?page_id=5738/
However, it has come to my attention that she still has a long way to go.
Carol Ann Duffy is about to end her reign as the ‘real’ poet laureate (though in my view the laureate to St Pancras and Rambles of a Writer outranks the so-called ‘real’ one) and a new one is to be chosen.
During the course of reading about this business, I came across lines by Alfred Austin, the poet laureate at the end of Queen Victoria’s reign. He was inspired to write the following lines regarding the illness of her son and eventual successor Edward – and I’m afraid, Ms Crawford, until your poetry can match the power, grace and ethereal quality of Austin’s work, you will have a long way to go:
Across the wires
The electric message came
He is no better
He is much the same
Read it and weep, Ms Crawford.