I’m going to be opening the Concealed Pockets of The Book Bag every now and then. First up, my thoughts on Sonnet Restaurant.
A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I visited Sonnet Restaurant, a 14-seater restaurant that serves a 14-course tasting menu across a few hours in Alnwick, Northumberland where all diners eat at the same time. Food x Poetry = a dream for me. This was a belated promotion / early anniversary celebration.
I could go on and on about the food however, I will simply state it was excellent, (Michelin and Conde Naste both agree) and we’ll be visiting again for a smaller lunch soon.
The experience was incredible, from the service which was friendly and attentive without being over the top and the wine flight paired perfectly with the courses.
This is a perfect place to eat when visiting Northumberland and I highly recommend if you’re looking to celebrate a special occasion. The space is intimate and bright and ends itself perfectly to relaxed fine dining.
A great finishing touch was the song ‘Sonnet’ by The Verve playing at the end of the meal. Another great detail was the course guide that was rolled into a scroll.
As sonnets go, the restaurant is comparable to Shakespeare’s 18th Sonnet. A marvel.
Hope you enjoyed this 14-line ( as it appears on laptop) response.
Stay tuned for more bits and pieces as I open more of The Book Bag’s Concealed Pockets.
Welcome to the first instalment of a new feature as part of The Book Bag. Poetic Voices will feature a different poet every month. This feature aims to platform and showcase exemplary work from writers I admire across the poetic landscape and will run concurrently with the regular weekly episodes of The Book Bag where I’ll still be sharing thoughts on books I’ve read in the week.
So without further ado, our featured Poetic Voice for June 2025 is Matthew M.C. Smith. A man who does so much for poets across the world and an incredible poet in his own right. If you’ve read The Keeper Of Aeons Book Bag article, you’ll know I’m a big fan.
Matthew M. C. Smith is a writer from the east of Swansea, the industrial heartland of the city. He has a PhD on Robert Graves and Celticism. He is widely published and his work can be read in Poetry Wales, Arachne Press, These Pages Sing, The Gower Society Journal, Atrium Poetry and Acropolis Journal. Matthew is writing his own novel of The Odyssey, hoping to complete a final draft in 2025. He is campaigning for the return of the “Welsh Elgin Marbles” – the Red Lady of Paviland – back to Swansea from Oxford.
Matthew loves everything Star Wars, Welsh Rugby, collecting signed poetry books and 60s/ 70s vinyl. He can be found on long time-travelling walks in Gower and the Welsh hills and coastline.
His last poetry collection was The Keeper of Aeons (Broken Spine, 2022). In 2024, he read with Owen Sheers and Matthew Hollis.
Matthew edits Black Bough, the Silver Branch project and TopTweetTuesday. He is on Twitter, Bluesky, Facebook, Insta/ Threads.
Not a Mirror
and its flat, flipped impression, not the containing frame. Not the predictable form of self, presented, out there, thinned in depth.
She wants to hold her hologram, through passages of gold out into the uncaring city: through mindless mountains, the ocean's unthinking, frayed edge, bearing its fierce blue flicker like a bust of Nefertiti, unflipped, uncontained, filling heart-sized height and depth.
She wants to hold its crackle like an offering to be placed at the sanctuary of a future self.
Green Man
Mist drifts through webs, rain-flecked.
From the house, from the ivy way, all paths spiral, shadowed by green ruins, unravelled to the sky and beyond, the forest is ghost.
Walk through the night, walk to your rest, kneel under the beat moon and the pitiless stars and look upon the Green Man, moss-cheeked, ivy-bearded, who stares, deathless, through you.
Today, I’m sharing the following poignant and important piece by Matthew.
Colouring the Birds of Gaza
In a gallery in Swansea children are colouring in paper birds, each one a symbol of a child killed in Gaza.
Crayons are clenched, tiny fists of protest, pencils propped in the pressing triangle of fingers and thumb.
Ask them, the children always know the truth.
It's about power. Violence breeds hatred. No-one can ever win. Everyone should be free. Stop the War.
This is not the poem. This is almost nothing. Look, instead at the paper birds, the children fixing wings on the glass that crinkle in the sunlight.
I am delighted to share another poem from Matthew MC Smith today (30/06/2025).
Your Sundown is Electric
Tonight, I will imagine one sky and your hand reaching up, your fingers touching the shimmer with whatever’s left in you.
You give the remains of your palette’s freedom, watching it trail through the sky, like a comet’s sinking tail.
Your heart is as long as the earth, it could be forever, it cannot go – a shock of joy before the low hum of earth things and the stars’ iron wheel, so distant from the wild streak of your wide eyes, the intake of your breath.
Tonight, I will imagine one sky and that you are that outstretched finger, as you sit on that step, in a hallway flooded by light, looking upwards,
your sundown is electric.
Thanks for reading, keep up with my socials to find out when the next poem goes live. Username is @paulwritespoems on Bluesky, Instagram, Threads, Facebook and X. You can also sign up to receive updates direct to your inbox when a new post goes live. Currently there is a delay in July’s Poetic Voice going live.
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