When she was brought thither and laid before the image of our Lady, her face was wonderfully disfigured, her tongue hanging out and her eyes being in a manner plucked out and laid upon her cheeks: and so, greatly disordered. Then there was a voice heard speaking within her belly, as it had been in a tun, her lips not greatly moving; she all that while continuing by the space of three hours in a trance. The which voice, when it told anything of the joys of heaven, it spake so sweetly and heavenly that every man was ravished with the hearing thereof. And contrary, when it told anything of hell, it spake so horribly and terribly that it put the hearers in a great fear. (From a letter written by Archbishop Thomas Cranmer to Archdeacon Nicholas Hawkins, 1533)
You cannot call such fliers strange Nor imitate surprise Although their subtle pinions range Beyond your soldered eyes. (‘The Birds’ – Edward A Richards)
Derek said: ‘There’s a beautiful fisherman’s cottage here, and if it was ever for sale, I think I’d buy it.’ As we neared the cottage, black varnished with bright yellow window frames , we saw the green-and-white ‘For Sale’ sign – the improbability of it made the purchase of it inescapable. (Derek Jarman’s Garden – Derek Jarman & Howard Sooley, from the foreword by Keith Collins)
Seas pleat winds keen fogs deepen ships lean no doubt, and the lighthouse keeper keeps a light for those left out. (‘Lighthouse Keeping’ – Kay Ryan)
The insect lovers seem to be transferring the cosmos into each other by attaching at the tail, holding utterly still, and quivering intently. I think (on what evidence?) that they are different from us. That they mate and are done with mating. (‘Dragonflies Mating’ – Robert Hass)
Sloppy workmanship, you could call it. Or maybe half-hearted iconoclasm. The alteration men of the Reformation or Puritanism, whichever it was, only removed half the image. The other half of this depiction of the Wheel of Fortune was hidden behind a pulpit.
Heaven loves ya The clouds part for ya Nothing stands in your way When you’re a boy. (‘Boys Keep Swinging’ – David Bowie)