John Elinger opened the readings, defining poetry as 'an attempt to say something memorable in a way that is memorable' and offered his 'draft manifesto', "Not yet adopted by the group!" John's delivery recalled to mind Harold McMillan's addresses, and he explored themes of creativity and mortality with statesman-like authority.

Paulette Mae's first poem, 'The Whole Fruit,' enquired, 'Is truth firm?/Or can it be soft?/Peach like?' A mouth-watering opening to a selection of readings where images tumbled as if from some magical cosmic waterfall. She broke into song during 'Reverb', the alternation of words and melody creating the effect of a dial sweeping across the broadcasting spectrum.

David Olsen looked intimately at 'interiors', notably during 'Cache in the Attic', where a new householder discovers, explores, then hastily repacks an abandoned tea-set, 'all moon-pale with translucence', the cache remaining lodged 'half forgotten in the penumbra/of thought, to reproach her in silence/like a bookshelf of good intentions'.

Jennifer A McGowan's voice filled the gallery, urging us to consider Lot's wife musing on reincarnation, and the joys of wearing odd socks. 'Commute to Kutná Hora' compared the aristocratic travellers of the past with today's tourists. 'Now in this summer swelter/our skins exude/a slime of sweat', concluding, 'The doyennes, long gone, frown/seeing us for what we are/universally second class',

Simon Altmann moved quickly through his half a dozen or more meditations, barely allowing time to absorb their true poignancy. 'Reaching the Sky' detailed a child's wonder at his physical development, 'Toes as final boundary of his body,' then morphed into a fairytale as 'he pierced the clouds and his head/ was well above the weather', and was ultimately metaphor, '...But no longer could he see his feet!'

Caroline Ashley inhabits her poetry physically. Traversing themes of 'loss, love and blood', passions intensified through 'The becoming', with a heroine 'as subtle as a watermark' and the tender 'Reflections', Caroline exclaiming afterwards, 'He's towing a whole SUN for her!' climaxing with the captivating 'Desire': 'Just to catch one flicker/of his candlelit voice'.

Michael Swan began with three poems about children, recited with fatherly affection and led us through an imaginative series, displaying wit and humour. I was taken by 'Not quite the thought fox', a poem about a poem, 'dragged through the catflap/laid out on the living-room carpet/and stiffening slowly'.

A highly stimulating and enjoyable evening of accomplished readers. The group are performing at Oxfringe as part of the Oxford Stanza on 1st/8th June. I strongly recommend that you see them.