Thursday 29 June 2023

Anna Bloom: Beloved of my 27 senses


 "O you, beloved of my twenty-seven senses, I love you!" This is the opening line of the poem, so it's our first sight of the unsuspecting Anna. Over the years I've had lots of thoughts about how to approach this one. Fairly early on, I thought he'd see her when she's out and about shopping. At the market, maybe. The last few days this developed into her eating an apple, so the poor deluded fool can think of her as tempting him.

You only have the poet's word for it, but there is something unconvenional about Anna Bloom. It seems she is gossiped about at the least. Eating in public can do that. Believe me.

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