Tag Archives: Jane Blanchard

Sonnet: Jane Blanchard, ‘Between Rounds’

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Year after year the very best in golf
head to Augusta. Fans come, too, and those
who live and work here either take time off
to travel or adopt a Masters’ pose.
One local woman hosts a party for
alumni of our alma mater. I
attended with my husband once. The hors
d’oeuvres were delicious, drinks well worth a try.
Invitees wandered through the house into
the garden, where the talk had lots of fizz.
One liquored man when asked “What do you do?”
replied: “I fly for Delta—soon to Rome.”
My husband looked my way as I looked his;
we both were more than glad to stay at home.

*****

Congratulations to Jane Blanchard, who has just had her collection ‘Furthermore’ published by Kelsay Books. (Blurbs by Steve Knepper among others can be found at her Amazon listing.) I asked her for a favourite poem to represent the book, and she sent me ‘Between Rounds’, originally published in Valley Voices: A Literary Review.

A native Virginian, Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia. Her collections with Kelsay Books include Metes and Bounds (2023) and Furthermore (2025).

Petrarchan Sonnet: Jane Blanchard, ‘Microsania imperfecta’

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She was the one who went off on her own.
She was the one who filed for the divorce.
You gave her what she wanted in due course.
Still she will never leave your life alone.

Available through email more than phone,
You have remained a favorite resource.
She contacts you supposedly perforce,
Less for herself than for a son long grown.

She seeks a certain something left behind,
A sterling ladle or an antique chest,
A recipe or record you must find.
Your common past has yet to enter rest
Since fire so often burns within her mind.
For smoke fly’s sake, you try to do your best.

*****

Jane Blanchard writes: “I came across the Latin term for this insect in an article in The Guardian about New York City in the summer of 2023, and the metaphor seemed curiously applicable to a particular person. A somewhat-Petrarchan sonnet then manifested itself. 
New Yorkers baffled by tiny flying bugs swarming city in wake of smoke | US news | The Guardian
On the Ecology of a Smoke Fly, Microsania imperfecta12 | Annals of the Entomological Society of America | Oxford Academic
I am gIad that Clarence Caddell chose to include the poem in the second issue of The Borough.”

A native Virginian, Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia. Her collections with Kelsay Books include Metes and Bounds (2023) and Furthermore (forthcoming, 2025).

Photo: “Microsania” by Guilherme A. Fischer is licensed under CC BY-NC 4.0.

Using form: irregular sonnet: Jane Blanchard, ‘Premises’

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After an argument I listen hard
to noises in our common house—the ticking
of clocks, the humming of fans, the creaking of floors,
the rumbling of pipes, the ringing of phones, the groaning
of springs, the clacking or clinking of keys, the droning
of television, the drumming of laundry, the clicking
of locks, the tumbling of ice, the squeaking of doors—
all louder once a morning has been marred.
Hours may pass as I interpret sound
by sound—source, frequency, duration. Some
attention goes to silences, which pound
and pound, but not to show where each comes from.
Throughout, peace can be found in knowing you
are also wondering when words are due.

*****

Jane Blanchard writes: “This sonnet from Metes and Bounds was first published in Mezzo Cammin (Summer 2017). It is rather irregular, especially in the octave, but such deviation seems appropriate for the subject, at least to me. This poem is largely a list, yet it has narrative and lyrical elements, too, and the experience described, I hope, is easily perceived.”

A native Virginian, Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia. Her latest collection with Kelsay Books is Metes and Bounds (2023).

Photo: detail of the cover of Metes and Bounds.

Potcake Poet’s Choice: Jane Blanchard, ‘The Kahler Grand Hotel (near the Mayo Clinic)’

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I see the waitress cock her head to try
to figure out what I just said. Across
the booth my husband will not meet my eye
until she leaves to place our order. Sauce
for goose and gander holds that I will get
a turn to laugh (or not) at him. Neither
of us can hide where we are from. I let
him think his accent less than mine—either
of us can drawl a syllable into
a sentence. Fine. Most locals here speak plain
Midwestern as they welcome others who
seek remedies for matters inhumane.
How I may talk does not mean one iota
when visiting Rochester, Minnesota.

Jane Blanchard writes: “The Kahler Grand Hotel appeared in Third Wednesday (Winter 2020) right before COVID-19 changed all of our lives. This sonnet discloses how Jimmy and I tried to cope with a different medical crisis several years earlier. A little humor can go a long way when dealing with a scary situation. To this day we appreciate the many kindnesses shown to us when we were very vulnerable and very far from home.”

A native Virginian, Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia. Her latest collection with Kelsay Books is Never Enough Already (2021).

The Spectator Competition: “Paradise Lost in four lines”

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Milton Dictating to his Daughter, 1793, Henry Fuseli

Lucy Vickery runs a competition in the British weekly The Spectator–a truly venerable publication which recently reached its 10,000th weekly issue. Its politics are a bit too conservative for my taste, but the competition is in a class of its own (The New Statesman having dropped its similar competition a few years ago).

The most recent challenge was this: “In Competition No. 3163 you were invited to submit well-known poems encapsulated in four lines.” The gorgeous responses prompted Lucy Vickery to call the results “Paradise Lost in four lines”, after this entry by Jane Blanchard:

Satan found himself in hell —
Eve and Adam also fell —
Good gone bad got even worse —
Milton wrote too much blank verse —

(which exactly reflects my feelings, having had to waste too much of my A Level studies on Paradise Lost at the expense of more interesting poets such as John Donne and Matthew Arnold.)

My personal delight in The Spectator’s competitions is in seeing so many Potcake Poets there (in this case not just Jane Blanchard, but also Chris O’Carroll, Martin Parker, Jerome Betts, George Simmers and Brian Allgar), and in identifying more poets to keep an eye on for possible future chapbooks.

Anyway, if you want to see nice condensations of famous poems, have a look at that specific competition’s results. My favourite is Martin Parker’s take on e.e. cummings’ ‘may i feel said he‘:

foreplay
(more play)
errings, ummings
(and cummings)

Potcake Poet’s Choice: Jane Blanchard, “Transactions”

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Erice, Jane Blanchard

Erice, Sicily

Transactions (in Sicilia)

The merchant was polite as I came in
on Monday afternoon to browse for wine,
but conversation happened only when
we spoke the common language of the vine.

A dozen bottles were selected, then
examined, labels studied, line by line,
at last set back into the proper bin,
except for one most likely to taste fine.

It did, so I returned to that same store
throughout the week and found the bill to be
a little less each time. I said no more
than grazie, smiling ever pleasantly.

By Saturday, I had a patron’s status,
awarding me a bar of chocolate gratis.

Jane Blanchard writes: “Transactions, first published in The Tau (2017), appears in my latest collection, In or Out of Season (2020). I am inordinately fond of reading and writing sonnets, perhaps because I studied so many of them while in graduate school. This particular sonnet is anecdotal; its speaker is my husband Jimmy, who accompanied me to Bread Loaf in Sicily in 2013 and wandered around Erice while I was in a workshop led by Stanley Plumly. Currently, it is hard not to feel nostalgic about such experiences.”

A native Virginian, Jane Blanchard lives and writes in Georgia, USA. She has earned degrees from Wake Forest and Rutgers Universities. Her collections to date have been published by Kelsay Books.