These poems have all been composed, written and published during 2020. More poems can be found on the World War I and II page.
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The Writers’ Group
by Sandra Stirling
We meet on a regular basis,
With notebooks tucked under our arms
Or iPads charged at the ready
For the Writers Group many charms.
For some, there could be a focus
On topics that follow a theme,
Like “Birthday,” “Garage” or “Delicious,”
While for others, it’s pure academe.
We listen to stories or poems
That engage, delight and enthrall –
The talent here is prodigious,
A talent demonstrated by all.
And mention must be made of the playwrights,
A particular skill here involved
As they’re written for radio only,
Special problems have to be solved.
We applaud, encourage, make comments
As work is read out aloud,
And if the author’s work is accepted,
They’ve a perfect right to feel proud.
I’m so glad I joined this Writers Group,
To be part of the ebb and flow
Of the talents and joy of this friendly class,
And the people I’ve come to know.
©Sandra Stirling, 2020
published 22 June 2020
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Waiting
by Peter Lucas
I’ll wait a little longer
For your eyes to close
when night becomes still
and streets are awake in yellow.
Ill wait a little longer
for your hair to be brushed
your hand to be held
the smile to fade.
I’ll wait for hot tea
and memories
the girl you were
the mother you became.
I’ll wait in this room
of faded photographs
and dried arrangements
with the smells of glycerine and rose.
I’ll wait sleeping in the chair
For your whisper
Telling me to go
‘It’s alright’, I say’ just a little longer
I curl deeper in the chair
wait for the quiet even breathing
comforted by its motion
and the knowledge your still here.
©Peter Lucas, 2020
published 25 June 2020
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Free Range
by Joy Meekings
There once was a chicken named Thelma her life was not going so well
For she was a battery hen and confined to a living hell
She thought she would never be rescued and be out in the sun all day long
She’d imagine blue sky, gentle breezes, pecking the earth, feeling strong
Her dream was to be a Free Ranger for that was the best she could be
Ooh to be out in the open, maybe sitting under a tree?
The ‘monsters’ running this ‘prison’ were convicted and now doing time
Confined to a very small cell, but does their punishment fit the crime?
Most of Thelma’s companions were unlucky, so mistreated they had to die
Thelma survived and is thriving, I thought you’d like to know why
Adopted by a good family she’s so much more than Free Range
Has all she could ever dream of, after thinking her life would not change
Her feathers have grown back completely, she looks and feels so well
Rarely thinks of her former life, for it does no good to dwell
Everyone please take notice, for we can bring about change
Let’s either keep chickens of our own or always buy Free Range!
©Joy Meekings © 2020
published 25 June 2020
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Run
by Gwen McCallum
Masked up and running
shoe laces tight as two old friends,
past scree weeds and stones
discarded plastic wrapping and graffiti
on red brick walls.
All the while in your head
planning a day a week a life,
waiting for answers-who wouldn’t,
everybody knows the questions.
Imagine a time, a place apart
when we sit down and touch,
fleeting or firm, a warmth, like
a swift injection into eager veins.
This is a ballad where notes are off
the tempo wrong.
Someone forgot the rules,
a sharp reminder, because
the conductor always calls the tune.
Run
© Gwen McCallum 2020
published 27 June 2020
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