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    • HOME
    • About us
    • Lower Farm 1
    • Lower Farm 2
    • Lower Farm 3
    • Lower Farm 4
    • Lower Farm 5
    • POEM
    • SOCIETY NEWS
    • Society News 2
  • HOME
  • About us
  • Lower Farm 1
  • Lower Farm 2
  • Lower Farm 3
  • Lower Farm 4
  • Lower Farm 5
  • POEM
  • SOCIETY NEWS
  • Society News 2

The
Geraint Goodwin Society

The Geraint Goodwin SocietyThe Geraint Goodwin SocietyThe Geraint Goodwin Society

Welcome to The Geraint Goodwin Society

About the society .. and more

How it started

The desire to form a Society prompted Joan How to begin contacting a handful of others who were either related or connected to Geraint Goodwin by virtue of their interest in his writings`

Mary Oldham (more recently Dr Mary Oldham) provided invaluable assistance  withe of her considerable knowledge of Geraint Goodwin. 

The Society was formed by registering a website domain name in 2010. Geraint Goodwin's daughter kindly accepted the invitation to be the first President. 


 GERA!NT GOODWIN was born in 1903 and died in 1941. During his life  he wrote the following:   
 NOVELS   Conversations with George Moore 1929   Call Back Yesterday 1935   The Heyday ln The BIood 1936 (Republished Palthian Library of wales2008) Watch for the Morning 1938   Come Michaelmas 1939   
 SHORT STORY COLLECTION The White Farm 1938   
 POETRY A collection of poems 'A First Sheaf' See Poems to listen to one of them. Listen to a reading by Jane Evans involved in the renovation project of the Market Hall Newtown. Jane reads an extract from 'Heyday in the Blood. in which Geraint descibes the Market Hall in 1870
    

A frosty Morning

BLUEBELLS IN HERTFORDSHIRE

Ashridge boasts the finest Bluebell woods in England. on a sunny morning the earth reveals a haze of vibrant blue and  for good measure, the most beautiful fragrance that money can't buy. 

A Poppy Field under Summer Skies

What a beautiful sight to behold   but also a reminder of the very sad poem from World War 1 entitled 'In Flanders Fields' by John Mccrae that begins '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...... '

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