Over forty years ago, I was approached by the Lincolnshire and Humberside Arts Association, who asked me if I’d like to read my poems at a little village hall in a neighbouring hamlet about a mile or two from the farm I ran with my brother.

Although I’d had my first poetry book out, I was young and I’d never spoken in public – you might say I was green (hence the title of my collection, Lincoln Green). Anyway, I clearly remember writing a quick note say ‘Yes, please’ and putting it in the little red post box on the lane, before I had chance to get nervous and change my mind.

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On the night, the village hall was packed… and my voice came out a little shaky, but I found the effect of delivering my poems onto the silence between me and people listening electrifying. I shared the stage with a folk band called Silver Birch, who became firm friends. The photographer, John Walls, who took this lovely portrait of me there, became a close friend of mine, too. I’d found my way into a world beyond the farm gate… and stepped into the captivating and friendly land of spoken word!

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I’m just glad I got that letter in the post before I had chance to think too much about it. I can’t replicate the quiver I had in my voice way back then, but I’ve recorded one of the poems from Lincoln Green to give you a taste of the occasion.