Char March - Writer, performer and tutor
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                    • BBC Country Tracks - Ben Fogle
                      • BBC 'Ramblings' with Clare Balding
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                                  Picture

                                  'The Thousand Natural Shocks'

                                  My fourth poetry collection 'The Thousand Natural Shocks' has 
                                  already won two awards!  (The Purple Patch award, and The PoetryKit award)  I am soooo chuffed!  And I've been getting loads of really lovely feedback from people who've bought it.  

                                  How do you get hold of a copy?!!
                                  Order it direct from me (a mere £9 incl p&p and you get a signed copy) or direct from
                                  my publishers, or (if you really want to support a multi-national!) from Amazon.

                                  'TTNS' gives you a real emotional roller-coaster of a ride - it delves into the worlds of a 21st century Icarus, a dog in space, a pigeon blown off course, an Olympic bean-bag thrower, an ancient aunt who bellows about cunnilingus, and an allotment Viking - amongst many others!  Experience the host of fabulously human – and humane – characters that are 'The Thousand Natural Shocks'.

                                  Here's a lovely review by the excellent poet, Abegail Morley.

                                  And here's another by DIVA magazine. 

                                  And, while you're waiting for your copy to arrive (!), here's a sample poem from TTNS:

                                  We were parents by Char March
                                    
                                  You played hide and seek
                                  through our dreams for years
                                  before you arrived.
                                   
                                  Then, once we’d tigged you
                                   – that squirm of blur
                                  inside that pulsing screen –
                                   
                                  we lay at night trying
                                  not to giggle; straining
                                  to hear your heartbeat.
                                   
                                  You made us laugh a lot,
                                  and disagree, and talk till 3am
                                  of names, and whose nose you’d get.
                                   
                                  And then you, who had lived 
                                  with us such a blink of time, 
                                  left.
                                   
                                  And we are left, holding
                                  onto nothing but naming books,
                                  and our lurching world.

                                  For you braced your whole
                                  13cm self, and threw our
                                  planet off its axis.
                                   
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