Yesterday we went to the Wenlock Poetry Festival with our daughter and grandson. This was the first time I had been to such an event and perhaps not something I had thought of doing. I was absorbed in and almost wallowed in the words, the stories, the carefully crafted expressions and was most impressed when my daughter and grandson got out their notebooks and just wrote their own poems over lunch.
Later I recalled that a few years ago I had written a few poems – so I looked them out and here they are. There may be more…….
Word
Word is a word
It tells us what is
It tells how we go
It tells what we know
Word is between us
That’s how we know
Word is
Off-centre
Self flung to the edge
The centre position is claimed
Caught off-side, out of place, unknown
Drawn inwards, released
Escaping boundaries
Spinning, spinning,
Colour becomes light
A wobble, a tipple
Momentum regained
The centre deepens,
Funnels the self
Till the centre of self is known
(This was inspired by a little (literally) book Do nothing to change your life by Stephen Cotterell)
The Minister’s Daughter – for children of ‘The Manse’
Dropped from the sky
A package of three
Six years here, three years there
Harvest, Christmas, Easter
Harvest, Christmas, Easter
Harvest, Christmas, Easter
Will you stay a while longer, we like you so much…
Ah no …well farewell!
September smells, removal vans
Navy blue knickers, white blouse – no blue!
Flesh stockings, black beret, felt hat, grey socks,
‘New’ curtains, carpets, beds and settees
New faces, new names, same people.
Does he have a family?
Just one…. A daughter
She’s quiet ……No trouble
And his wife? Does she work?
The Bright Hour? Young Wives? Harvest supper?
Have no fear! She’ll be there.
Pantomimes, concerts and missionary talks
Barn dances, bazaars and services, of course
Anniversaries and outings
One egg, one spam and a bottle of pop
And one of those cakes with a cherry on top.
You know, your father’s really a wonderful man,
Such a comfort, he visits, preaches well too
And your mother, so gracious, her pies are delicious
We’re lucky to have them, we’ll miss them of course…
Yes I know! They’re my mum and dad!
I’m part of the package that dropped from the sky
No time to take root … We must fly!