The Taste of Rain
A Year on Cannock Chase
The Taste of Rain is my first full-length poetry collection. It was published by Offa's Press in 2023.
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The Taste of Rain originated as my final year project for my MFA. Due to the amount of time I spent walking on Cannock Chase (a National Landscape in Staffordshire), I decided to write poems that tracked a full calendar year of observing these special and varied landscapes.
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I wanted the collection to be very rooted in that specific place, so there are poems all about areas of Cannock Chase where people and nature have existed side-by-side. I also wanted to capture the feeling of ancient knowledge - a kind of almanac - so there are poems about months, full moons, and pagan festivals. Finally, having seen a year which started with extreme prolonged snow and ended with a warm, damp winter, the impact of the changing climate makes itself obvious. So there are poems of warning, poems of mourning, and poems of change.
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I was very lucky to receive an endorsement from Helen Mort, who said:
"Gorgeous lyric poems in conversation with Cannock Chase, seen and unseen. Cherry Doyle's poems gift us a landscape, a mind-scape."
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The Taste of Rain is perfect for poetry fans who are passionate about ecopoetry, Cannock Chase, or non-traditional forms. Get your copy from the Offa's Press shop or by contacting me directly.
Beautiful Cannock Chase
Prayer to the Forest
P
Father, mother - I found you
deep in the creases of your own backs,
in an open mouth of sky between your branches.
I would bathe your roots in dew,
kiss your hems of moss and ivy,
if you’d only take me in your arms,
run a twilight hour over my skin,
lull me to sleep with whispers
in the skitter of rain on my hood.
Grant me a sprinkling of birdsong
in the feather-tops of young birches,
a sunrise of cowslips at my feet.
Father, mother – teach me how
to shelter; how you face the wind
as it parts around you.
Forgive me. I arrived today in clouds
of diesel smoke. Buy single-use plastic,
leave the TV on when I go out.
How can I stand here, begging
for your soft company? How can I
look you in the face, with all this talk of salvation?