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linaleigh's review
5.0
I've never been one for poetry, really, but this is the kind of writing that anyone can understand, poetry lover or not. It is often graphic, always frank, and a fascinating read which I did a lot of interesting work with.
theliterarylotte's review
4.0
Stunning collection. The way the collection is organised, however, is not stunning. Would like the poems to be categorised better. Wouldn't recommend reading everything at once, it's quite depressing (and rightfully so!)
slc54hiwi's review
3.0
Borrowed this as an ebook from the library. The poems are marvelous, of course, and I liked the selection - especially the fact that women poets were included. The forward was forgettable & the lack of a table of contents was just bizarre. Penguin - get your act together!
katie_barty's review against another edition
4.0
“In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.”
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.”