The prompt we were given at The Writer's Workshop on Thursday morning in The Gateway Warrington was a card. Mine had a pic of a baby polar bear and inside the word ...Christmas!!
So in a couple of hours I came up with this offering!
Baby Polar Bear
"Christmas comes but once a year
And when it comes it brings good cheer."
But if you're stuck upon a floe
And there is nowhere else to go
It's hard to keep a cheerful face
Accept what's happened with good grace.
I didn't mean to push my brother
He landed one way or another
Inside our mother's fishing hole.
He didn't like the freezing cold.
He screamed and called me such rude names
And mother said I was to blame
For all the things that made her mad
Broke her heart and left her sad.
I thought that rotten fishy heads
I left beside her on the bed
Would pacify and calm her down.
Would make her smile, but when she found
Them sticking to her tummy fur
That ..was the very end for her.
I sit upon this icy floe
And wonder which way it will go.
If north, I'm sure to find my way
If south to melt? well who can say....
If Christmas on some warmer shore
Will find me laid out on the floor.
A present for some mother's child
My eyes still sad ..my whiskers wired.
I'm going to promise to be good
To be the joy I know I could
If only to be sure that they
Are MY presents on Christmas day!
I'm linking this one into DeVerse...Poetics....hope it finds some laughter!!!
We went to the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester yesterday to see an adaptation of Virginia Woolf's book "Orlando". I find that theatre often releases long gone memories in me...and so it was with this.
The poem has really nothing at all to do with the story of Orlando but somehow this is what came tumbling out today.
I'm linking in with DeVerse today....I think that the poem fits the bill......thankyou Brian for the prompt!
With so much relayed over the media and the papers full of the sad stories of flooded homes and broken journeys...I'm putting up this post as a memory of another sea...another train journey...another ending...though for how long none of us can be sure any longer. The End Of The Line
Let's go live at the end of the line
Where breakers fall over rolling stones.
We'll ride the train that we rode when young,
Watch how the steam mists our view of the sea
As it hisses and cools on the iron, on the brass.
And the cry of the gulls as they dive, as they soar
Will welcome us back
Will welcome us back.
Let's board the train that we rode long ago.
Where the end of the line will have water and sand.
We'll be welcomed again by the mewing of gulls
By the smell of spun sugar and hot lardy chips.
And there, will be space enough for our thoughts
With salt winds to blow away stale urban fog.
To welcome us back
To welcome us back.
They're saying the crust is beginning to crack.
That the cold winds of change are blowing our way.
Yet, when I take the journey again to the end
Of the line, where the seagulls are soaring above,
To the edge of the tide, to the line in the sand...
The memory of all things, of all being well
Embraces me back
Embraces me back.
...this is linked to DeVerse...Meeting the Bar this week it's Songwriting and the link to Poetry.
I was published as a songwriter in the late 60s early 70s and find that most of my poetry now has to have some rhythm and rhyme..at the least an underlying rhythm to move it along...so I read the work quite a few times until a sense of pace comes into it naturally........
...why so long ago??
well family ...children and The Potters House Penketh took precedence until I started writing again a few years ago.