Sipping a coffee quietly between events at Stanza I was accosted by two young American girls who asked if I'd like to hear some poetry.  Following my acquiescence one treated me to poems by Emily Dickinson and Christina Rossetti while the second girl recited a piece of her own.  It was a good piece I think but can't remember a word of it.

I thought this must be some form of busking especially as one girl was clutching a paper cup that could have been a collecting cup.  She didn't thrust it at me but held it close to her body.  Assuming this to be from maidenly reticence I asked what was expected of me in return for their efforts. "Why! A poem" they said. 

Now I could have mustered a verse or two of Ode to a Haggis or made up a wee limerick on the lines of - There was a young girl at Stanza/who promised the boys a bonanza...

You get the idea.  But fortuitously I had just purchased a book of poetry by a poet I'd heard earlier so I whipped it out, leafed through and found something that seemed quite appropriate at the time though I'm not sure now that "Ululate my angels..." was entirely suitable.

Of course this turned out not to be busking but an integral part of the festival and I was recited to on two further occasions.

Of the half dozen events I went to I most enjoyed a session on World War I poets.  Kitted out in plastic replicas of tin helmets the young Dundee student members of Joot Theatre and a definitely more mature member of the company with flowing beard and khaki beret performed poems of the war.  A girl in period costume did all the lovelorn lass at home, weeping widow and encourager to take up arms bits. 

All the poets you might expect were featured; Sassoon, Owen, Brooke and so on.  But new to me and not featuring in this list of 25 poets of the First World War was Joseph Lee.  A Dundee man he was apparently well regarded in his time but the voices of others have drowned his out since.  He's well worth looking out for.  Here's a tiny but striking sample.

Every bullet has its billet;

Many bullets more than one:

God! Perhaps I killed a mother

When I killed a mother's son.