National Poetry Day

The tiniest sunflower

peeks its head out.

Its petals unfurl

to face the sun.

Yellow as butter.

Perfect like a picture.

The sun warms its face

and if flowers could have feelings,

then this one is happy.

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Autumn in the garden 🍁

The wind whispering
Through chilly trees
Sounds like sand on shore
After a wave hits.
One dry yellow leaf
Swiftly falls from its
mother tree’s branch
And an apple clumps
Softly on the lawn.
A toad hides under
A fallen leaf,
Alert for danger.

The labrador jumps,
Trying to catch him:
But misses by miles, Settles instead for
Chomping a spider.
Her web-smeared black
Nose sniffing loudly,
Hoping for more snacks.
She smells wood fire
On the breeze. Shivering,
Heads back inside to
Her humans’ sofa.

6 October 2022 is National Poetry Day.

Why don’t you write a poem? It’s easy to do and doesn’t have to rhyme. Write about what you like, or how you are feeling. 🙂

For more info, go to:

https://nationalpoetryday.co.uk

The National Literacy Trust helps children and families to develop a love of reading and writing. They have great resources and a local site for people from Swindon, called Swindon Stories.

https://literacytrust.org.uk/communities/swindon/

September

September’s first sunset

Is candyfloss fluffy 

Pink on watercolour 

Azure. The drought-cracked ground

Thirsts desperately for rain.

Yellow, salmon, crimson

Roses scent the cool air.

Perfectly formed, like

Fragile, living sculptures

Too good for this world.

Sparrows fly overhead,

Heading for lofty nests.

Juicy soft blackberries

Are waiting to be picked

And cooked in jams and pies,

Just like when we were kids. 

The nights are creeping in,

I can breathe again.

Autumn has arrived.

March morning

The Sparrows call call call
Loudly to each other
From the rooftops, seven
On a Sunday morning.


The magpies soar soar soar
Their black and white feathers
Flashing in the spring sun
As they look for breakfast.


The blackbird sing sing sings
His beautiful song from
The apple tree’s bent branch
Whose buds are still tiny.


Fluffy clouds fly fly fly
Past high above my head,
In a rush, places to
Go, people to rain on.

Just look up

The spaces between the clouds 
are secret stories waiting
To be found
By someone who cranes their neck
And stares for a little while,
Just watching
To discover a treasure
That most never know about.
So look up.

Patches of blue peeking through,
Like a child behind curtains
Playing hide
And seek, giggling quietly
As they crouch in the shadows
Patiently
Waiting for you to find them.
But first, you have to stop for
A while. Take a deep breath and
Just look up.

July evening

Quarter past 9 at night.

In winter I would be inside,

Hiding in a blanket.

Curtains drawn against the dark.


But it is July.

I sit in the garden,

Watching the clouds turn from 

Pink to orange to peach.

I see bees still working,

While a noisy sparrow flies

Into its roof-nest.


The apples are changing

from green to rosy red.

Roses climb overhead.

Slugs grow fat on juicy grass,

And honeysuckle scent

Bathes in the warm air.

8 July 2021

Grief never goes away,

never gets smaller.

You never get over it.

It’s not a hill.

Your life as one left behind
Goes on, yes.
Memories are made:
New ones
without your loved one.
Sometimes happy,
Sometimes sad,
Sometimes nothing.

It’s possible to have good days,
Smile,
Enjoy coffee.
It’s possible to keep going,
Be busy,
Be sociable.

But grief,
The price that we pay for love,
Never goes away.

Some people will get it,
Without you having to explain,
Many will understand
Without personal experience.
Others will seem to forget,
Or expect you to
Move on and stop making them uncomfortable.
Some will tell you about how
hard their petty problems are,
And you will try to
sympathise,
But the reality is that they have
no idea.

You will lose some friends
Because they can’t deal with your sorrow.
You will make some new friends
Who love you, scars and all.

We don’t wear all black
Or cry every day,
But still
We grieve.

Grief is not a hill to get over.

It’s a path that lasts a lifetime.