FOR his 70th birthday, York poet Pete Morgan received praise from the new poet laureate, a loving and humorous introduction from Barnsley bard Ian McMillan, the musical accompaniment of Martin Carthy, and a full house.

Not bad for a quiet voice who is rarely heard above the babble. Morgan is a hero among other poets, including Carol Ann Duffy and McMillan, who are indebted to his writing and encouragement.

Duffy, fresh from her elevation, proved just why she should be admirably up to the job. What a sharp, funny and yet sometimes cutting poet she is, with razor mind and deadpan wit. Her readings from The World’s Wife were delicious, especially Mrs Midas and Mrs Aesop (in which the racing tortoise is said to move “as slow as marriage”). She returned later for poems depicting the stages of a relationship, which were quieter and, in a sense, more devastating.

As for Morgan, shy and a little stumbling at first, he grew in confidence and stature, his deep voice filling out the auditorium, his poems beautiful cool observations delivered with rhythmic passion; sometimes, arms flung out, he stopped looking like the tallest tree that didn’t want to be noticed, and became almost a human crucifix, or perhaps the smartest scarecrow.

A duet with Carthy was a delight, as too were Brass Monkey. Morgan was visibly moved by it all, so all praise to Simon Thackray of The Shed for arranging this birthday party.