My poems showcased here in this inspiring place are both typical, and, of what I write. I penned poetry prolifically from about the age of nine until my early twenties and then suddenly, once accepted onto the novel stream of a Creative Writing MA, everything I wrote was prose fiction (or shopping lists). I managed one sentimental poem after the birth of my son, and then, around ten years later the glimmer reappeared and I can’t stop pursuing it.

These verses are typical for me in that they are clearly inspired by the natural world. I live with the deep, deep green of Somerset all around our house, every window lets in bleats, chirps, neighs, furry moths (hence the poem ‘Dark Bordered’).

‘Exeunt’ came to me almost fully formed and alive (the antithesis of the rotting muntjac deer on the road) when I nearly tripped over the dead deer when I was running. This could be a humble brag were it not for the fact that I am a very slow jogger and mainly run to clear my head rather than any benefit it may bestow on my muscles/heart/bones/fat reserves. Over the course of several weeks I witnessed the carcass melt into the ground and become nothing. In a culture where we euphemise and sanitise death, that is quite humbling, I can tell you.

I have a deep love of Wales, graduated from a Welsh university, had family in North Wales for years and in my day job enjoy editing for several brilliant Welsh publishers. ‘Afon Elan’ is a love song to the rivers and valleys, folklore and poetry. It also recalls a happy and nervous long weekend in Cwm Elan when I first got two lines on the pregnancy test to say my daughter was sticking around. I think that part is extremely implicit in the text and may only be interpreted by the writer!

With ‘Dark Bordered’ I wrapped up some political feelings about our splintered society and being an outsider with some recent research on moths. I used to be fearful of large moths but find them fascinating now and feel blessed when they materialise at the windows again. I have since discovered Simon Armitage’s recent collection New Cemetery draws on the wonder of moths. 

I mentioned from the off that these particular three poems are also somewhat atypical of what I feel the need to write. Many of my other pieces are drawn from knick-knacks of life and my family, and I have recently delved into themes of war, gothic horror, women’s safety, ageing, ancestry, mythology and dark comedy, so perhaps I can’t be typecast as a nature poet just yet.

For now I try to compose a couple of new things each week alongside earning a crust as an academic book editor, being a mum to teens and running. Hopefully later this year I will have a collection that I’ll be ready to let swim out into the world.

Melanie Marshall is a freelance editor who lives near a Neolithic long barrow in Somerset, with her husband, son, daughter and two cats. She holds an MA in Creative Writing from UEA and a BA in English Literature from Cardiff University, has had poems and short stories published by The Moth, Momaya, Pen & Inc Press, The Ghastling and Prole Books, and her novel Noir Gris was longlisted for the Mslexia Prize.