Broad Street Wrington Website
GALLERY
Writers' Page 2
      
 Paul Twynam For You        Echo Irving: HOOLIGANS        Audrey Miles: A field in morning 
Poets' corner

One more "advice to someone young" poem which came out of the writing
workshops recently held in Wrington and Redhill, plus one other on a
subject I know only too well - cats!

Please feel free to send your verse - I will use them in chronological order, so please be patient!

Tony Watts




For you

Smile at a stranger
For they may be glad of it,
Enjoy waiting your turn
For the chance to rest,
Know the seasons
For they know you,
and listen to the music
For it listens to you.


Cry with a loved one
For it opens your hearts,
Savour old cheese
For it's full of men's work,
Look at the sky
For it looks down on you,
And cherish each moment
For it cherishes you.

Paul Twynam

HOOLIGANS

"Cats are hooligans", he said, leaning back.
In all honesty, I had to agree with him.

"They break things and mess in my flowerbeds."
He had a point: they'd done as much to me.

"They claw and tear the furniture to shreds!"
I have known ones which abseil off curtain rails!
"They kill birds and leave bits all round the place.
"Killers", he said from their heads to their tails!"

"But at least allow them beauty and grace."
"Of course, " he said. "Handsome and nice to draw.
But living with them is a different case."

He lifted his little dog from the floor.
"They stare past you with bold alien eyes."
Lambent eyes, changed at night to glowing coals.

"They're just jungle creatures scaled down in size."
"Brazilians call them "eaters of souls"
"There you are", he said, "Cats are hooligans."

Echo Irving

A field in morning

I could borrow words from Shakespeare, from Wordsworth or from Donne,
Brilliant English wordsmiths, a genius every one.

I could prattle on and on about the 'dancing daffodils'
Or 'sleep perchance to dream' about our county's rolling hills

But a field in morning sunshine, all bedecked with sparkling dew,
Is a joy that's quite unrivalled and forever seen anew.

All overspun with cobwebs made by spiders overnight,
A translucent downy duvet to display the dawn's first light.

Too soon the sun will rise again and melt this work of art,
But sights like this are seen by eye and stored within my heart.

Audrey Miles