Ginge Reads

We planted the sun in the horizon, A hazy blend of yellows and blues, Gently cupped the soil over it And watched it bloom into a new day. Now enchanting little raindrops of light Bud on the surface Like promises for the coming years. Something infinite will take root here: A future, and in it, we are together. Remember that we and Mother Nature are co-creating this vivid dream. Let's not kill it. Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash Monkey see, monkey do. Are you related? A copy of a copy, a duplicate me Blink twice, No, you're not imagining it. Shadow and brightness of the mirror view Those slightly distinct reflections And such perfect impressions In a synchronised pair. One and the same but nothing alike, Double up She's always right If I pinch you can she feel it?

The Chandos Portrait of William Shakespeare ,  attributed to John Taylor As a university student of English Literature and an avid book fan, it is hardly shocking to reveal that I truly enjoy the works of William Shakespeare. His use of language and metre is revolutionary, and the plays themselves make up an integral part of not only English literature and its progression, but that of drama and performance too. However, this does not mean that he is everyone’s cup of tea, and certainly it doesn’t justify forcing his writing onto young people in education. Currently, Shakespeare is a compulsory element to the school curriculum, whereby students must study at least one of his most famous plays (usually Romeo and Juliet or Macbeth ) for use in coursework and exams. Yet I cannot help but think that this is quite unjust. In a world preaching total inclusion, gender equality and religious acceptance, why do we continue to present the horrors of misogyny, marginalised voices...

Photo by Rakshith Reddy on Unsplash Light glints down on indigo bunting Burning bright on a wire And I watch As the sun warms her wings, Her tiny frame of vivid colour Soaking up the day. She greets the sun anew,  Like an old friend rarely seen But loved always. She leaps. Enclosed in lightness of flight, She has never owned shadow And takes to the skies with arrow grace. Every move she makes Reverberates like a musical note from a key Privileged enough to have been played. She puffs her front and sings like she ought. Would she sing for me, If she got caught?