A thing about a hairy poet

Having grown up on a diet of Jane Austen and Jilly Cooper, I am a pathetic romantic – constantly falling in love, constantly convinced that I will bump into someone with the looks of Mr Darcy and the sexual swagger of Rupert Campbell-Black in Pret one day while buying a ham sandwich.

Then, this morning, a new book landed on my desk. This happens quite often and the books are usually dross. ‘The Spirituality of Richard Gere’ was a particular low point.

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However, ‘Chasers of the Light’ is a sweet poetry anthology written by an American chap called Tyler Knott Gregson who is pretty handsome himself, even though he has a beard and is called Tyler.

I’ve had a flick through and many of the poems are short, joyful (faintly Wendy Cope-esque), and made for pathetic romantics like me.




And also:



According to the press release which came with the book, Tyler is a already a ‘Tumblr and Instagram sensation’, as well as being a ‘poet, author, professional photographer, Buddhist and artist who lives in the mountains of Montana with his two golden retrievers, Calvin and Hobbes.’ Several of those things, I grant you, sound a bit annoying. But if you can get over that – and the beard – then you’ll see what I mean about his poems.