Tarantella – Hilaire Belloc

This was one of the earliest poems I remember hearing. Perhaps a bit of an adult theme but I was absolutely riveted, as a young child, by the cadences of the verse. There is something in this poem which reminds me of my earliest memory of all: the sound of rain on a tin roof, the musical tip top tapping of it, spinning worlds of feeling out of a simple sound, a blending of reality and music. The sense I had as a child of this poem has of course evolved, and now it holds real echoes of echoes for me, from my own life. But yet poetry has the power to evoke a sense of a lost past, even in a child who has never had one. I will be recording a few more poems of this sort shortly. But for now, I hope you enjoy this one.

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