I always say that I'll have a go and see whether the poem works and if it does, then fine.

For me, poetry is the music of being human. And also a time machine by which we can travel to who we are and to who we will become.

Where I lived - winter and hard earth.I sat in my cold stone roomchoosing tough words, granite, flint,to break the ice. My broken heart -I tried that, but it skimmed,flat, over the frozen lake.She came from a long, long way,but I saw her at last, walking,my daughter, my girl, across the fields,In bare feet, bringing all spring's flowersto her mother's house. I swearthe air softened and warmed as she moved,the blue sky smiling, none too soon,with the small shy mouth of a new moon.

Like the sand and the oyster, it's a creative irritant. In each poem, I'm trying to reveal a truth, so it can't have a fictional beginning.

I have piles of poetry books in the bathroom, on the stairs, everywhere. The only way to write poetry is to read it.

I'll be left writing picture books and fairy tales

Auden said poetry makes nothing happen. But I wonder if the opposite could be true. It could make something happen.