EYE OF THE TIGER

I first heard Michael Swan read at the annual Poetry on the Lake festival at Lake Orta in Italy some years ago. 

The festival's been described as "perhaps the smallest but possibly the most perfect poetry festival in the world" and it certainly lived up to this accolade. In the course of a splendid weekend, I heard Michael read several times, along with such other notables as Carol Ann Duffy, Chris Considine, Caroline Carver, Susi Clare and Christopher North. 

Michael’s poems are deceptively simple yet full of subtleties. Not for him the self-defeating obscurity of so many poets nowadays.

Whilst working for the Guernsey Arts Commission, I was able to recommended Michael for the role of Writer in Residence at the Arts and Islands Conference that took place in Guernsey and, once again, had the opportunity to attend his readings. 

You can find some of these on You Tube and a good starting point might be at 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS3Csu7ytk0   

There you can hear him reading It’s Wednesday, a poem that will strike a chord with many.

I’d also recommend you seek out Michael’s poetry collections: 

When They Come For You  and The Shapes Of Things,  

both are available online at:-  

http://www.mikeswan.co.uk/poetry/

In selecting a Michael Swan poem to publish here, I was faced with a hugely difficult choice. After much deliberation, and a thoroughly enjoyable re-reading of both his books, I’ve opted for Tiger Dreams.

TIGER DREAMS

Child

one day

you will meet a tiger.

You and the tiger

face to face.

What will you do?

I know you.

You will hold out

to the tiger

on your bare hand

a small globe

spinning,

throwing light at all angles.

And you will tell the tiger your dreams,

and a special thing

that only you know.

And the tiger will come close,

press her muzzle to you

- if she were not a wild creature

you would swear

it was a kiss.

And in her turn

she will tell you a secret.

For a long time

you will share each other’s eyes.

You will go away

pad, pad, pad;

and when no one is looking

you will wash your fur

with your rough tongue.

And the tiger

will tell your dreams

to her babies.