The Mood Of May
Fragrant honeysuckle blossom leads William Ruleman to deeper thoughts beyond the mere material.
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Fragrant honeysuckle blossom leads William Ruleman to deeper thoughts beyond the mere material.
William Ruleman brings a new translation of a Stefan Zweig poem which conjures up the special appeal of Venice.
William Ruleman reflects upon the frail, small, "unworthy'' girl who saw the Mother of God.
"April’s a lass we long to woo,
But we’re bound to dull routines...''
William Ruleman's poem reminds us that we shut ourselves away from a fulfilling life by trying to play a part that is not real.
Here's a poem by nine-year-old Ben Horner. The start of a literary career?
Caroline Glyn brings a poem of joy.
William Ruleman presents an evocative translation of a poem by Rubén Darío.
William Ruleman imagines the thoughts of Henry II following the murder of Thomas Becket.
Arnold Kellett prayed to be forgiven for Christmas greed.
William Ruleman brings us a timely translation of Rubén Darío's great poem, The Magi.
Caroline Glyn's Poem is filled with omens.
Marianne Hall brings us an ecstaic love poem.
A life spent wreaking hate is her game...
Sonia Noble's memorable poem concerns a profoundly unhappy individual.
Marianne Hall writes about a stranger who set a heart on fire.
Marianne Hall's poem is a sharp reminder of our primeval origins.
Here's a poem written at a time of great stress in Marianne Hall's life.
Vera Sanderson's poem expresses the real delights of this day.
Anne Steward was prompted to write this memorable poem after reading "Greater Love'' by the war poet Wilfred Owen.
Marianne Hall brings a joyous love poem.
Joyce Worsfold conjures up an Eastern scene in four lines of verse.
Hazel Dracup brings us another poem.
Joyce Worsfold's brief alphabetic poem contains a truth beneath the surface innocence.
Joyce Worsfold brings us another short poem.
Here's another poem by Caroline Glyn.
Joyce Worsfold offers unusual advice for caring for a compost bin.
Caroline Glyn's poem concerns end-days and rebirth.
Joyce Worsfold tells of a boxing glove that once danced lightly.
"The ground here is rich with fallen dreams,'' writes poet Caroline Glyn.
Hazel Dracup brings us another poem.
Joyce Worsfold brings a poem to put a smile on your face.
India and Africa have come to our street
Vibrant and vivid and warm and unique...
Joyce Worsfold brings us a vibrant and optimistiuc poem.
Hazel Dracup recalls the time when imagination served to keep a child entertained.
Joyce Worsfold brings us a cheery quattraine.
Hazel Dracup thinks back to days long gone.
This wonderful poem by Joyce Worsfold gives some of the best advice on how to live a life that your are ever likely to receive.
Hazel Dracup brings us a happy holiday poem.
Caroline Glyn's poem tells of the place of making and ending.
Nature needs to be respected, says Hazel Dracup in her latest poem.
To read more of Hazel's poems and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=hazel+dracup
Hazel Dracup pays tribute to life-giving trees.
Hazel Dracup is inspired by a bow of pure delight.
Lorna Des Fountain was looking forwards to moving into a cottage in a retirement village. A part of its appeal was a little Acacia sweet thorn tree standing outside the entrance. However a neighbour poisoned the tree to make space for manoeuvering a large caravan.
The little tree is dying by the day.
Lorna wrote these three linked poems to express her feelings.
Engagement with beauty is a solitary affair, writes poet Ivor Murrell.
David Shaw's delicious poem features the unexpected desires of an occasional table.
Brian Jenkinson's poem reveals a new perspective on Haloween.
Hazel Dracup's verses feature this mellow, colourful season.
Poet John Cooper has never forgotten horrible, horrible Howden Clough.
To buy a copy of John’s book Unreliable Judgements, a collection of thoroughly pleasing poetry, click on
David Shaw's poem recalls a harsh punishment once meted out to Scottish children.
The beauty of flowers and butterflies leads Miriam McAtee to profound thoughts.
David Shaw sees regeneration in the the leafless silhouette of a tree.
Caroline Glyn's thoughts soar to a new understanding.
John Brian Leaver's poem expresses a profound longing for that peaceful place where morning breaks to a corncrake's call.
Ivor Murrell’s poem concerns the significance of an ancient and awe-inspiring migration.
John Cooper's hilarious poem will be appreciated and recited wherever the game of cricket is played - and Yorkshire lads will remember it, chuckling for ever more.
To purchase a copy of John's book Unreliable Judgements please visit http://www.poetissimus.com/page8.html
John Brian Leaver's poem imparts a sense of the vastness of time and the eternal tug twixt sea and men.
Ivor Murrell’s vivid poem tells of a man who always wore a hat while going about his daily business which on some occasions was pungently unsavoury.
...There is one field in which exclamation marks proliferate -
in the manuscripts of indifferent writers.
I used to think it was an attempt to give their words impact.
But now I’m not so sure. Perhaps they hope the down stroke
hovering over the point
will scare it into staying put...
John Cooper is one of those rare poets with the power to make you laugh, cry and emit a loud "YES'' of joyful approval and agreement.
Read and enjoy this poem from his recently published book Unreliable Judgements.
Paddy Webb records her thoughts at a critical time.
Jean Cowgill's poem highlights the contrasts between the old and thenew in London.
Caroline Glyn's poem captures the essence of irrational fear.
Ivor Murrell’s poem hints at the irreparable loss suffered by some serving soldiers.
Do visit Ivor’s engaging Web site www.versifier.co.uk
Ivor Murrell’s poem tells of the best buy of a lifetime.
Do visit Ivor's excellent Web site and enjoy more of his poems. www.versifier.co.uk
John Ayling's poem records a day of perfect bliss.
John Ayling tells of bread on a plate, a glass of wine, and the divine presence.
John Ayling writes a love poem for his wife.
Ivor Murrell's vivid poem suggests that the behaviour of birds and ants can remind us of our own predatory instincts.
John Ayling gives praise for April days.
John Ayling's poem conveys the full meaning of Eastertide.
John Ayling's poem hails the most welcomed of all the seasons.
John Ayling's poem expresses the essence of peace.
John Ayling's poem tells of the day when a harsh reality destroyed a perfect scene.
John Ayling tells of that most desired of all human gifts - true love.
John Ayling has some advice in verse for would-be poets.
...Gently inserting my finger tips I feel around for concepts, opinions, notions, theories, thoughts, noughts, crosses, symbols and words, words, words...
Jacqueline Finesliver's poem will shock you to the very core of your brain.
John Ayling says thanks in verse for a poem sent to him on his 97th birthday by his friend Prys.
Masimba Biriwasha conveys the profound emotions aroused by music.
For more of Masimba's thoughts, feelings and words please do visit
John Ayling longed for an eternity of love unbounded.
...In September 1944 Dam buster hero Guy Gibson
did not return from a bombing sortie
so my father ate his eggs and bacon.,,
In this marvellous and memorable poem Ivor Murrell writes about the loss of a father and new perspectives.
...So full my heart of mystery and awe
As beauty laid upon my mind her spell
I saw new truths I had not seen before..
John Ayling gains fresh insights into the meaning of life from the beauty of Nature.
Ivor Murrell looks at an old photograph of himself and his workmates - and an intense feeling of cameraderie comes flooding back.
John Ayling's poem expresses the joy of arriving home as a winter darkness falls.
This poem-psalm, written by Joyce Worsfield was set to music by Simeon Wood and is available on DVD.
John Ayling recalls his 97th birthday with particular pleasure.
Paddy Webb continues her account in verse of the life of her great grandfather John Charles Ayling, the first of three generations of elder sons of that name.
This story, set between the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th Centuries, is based on the recollections of Paddy’s grandmother.
In this episode young John, seeking work in London, finds himself under the iron-thumbed control of Fat Annie.
John Ayling's poem reminds us of the meaning of this season of Advent.
Anne Steward was moved to write this poem after being frustrated in her attempt to subscribe to a new Broadband service.
Marjorie Parkinson presents a poem for Halloween
With few but vivid words John Ayling charts the course of a happy day.
Caroline Glyn's poem conveys the mystery and menace of a nighttime tree.
Ian McMillan is a poet. and the funniest entertainer in Britain.
After seeing him perform three weeks ago I have no hesitation in making this declaration. You are in for a cart-load of giggles and guffaws when he takes to the stage, the field or the front room. I am still laughing.
The Times Educational Supplement called Ian the Shirley Bassey of performance poets.
Besides doing stand-up shows he writes newspaper columns and regularly appears on BBC radio and TV.
He gave me permission to run one of his poems. Ordinary Heroes, Ordinary Heroines which he wrote to mark this year's Poetry Day.
Before the poem there are some autobiographical words by Ian.
So...read on, and enjoy. You are in the company of one of the most warm-hearted entertainers of our age.
-- Peter Hinchliffe, Open Writing Editor
John Ayling wrote this poem for his wife Winifred as a gift on her 93rd birthday.
This poem by Edward Spiers tells of the longing which still fills the weary old sailor who was enticed by the siren's song.
John Ayling's poem expresses a deep longing for for Wales and its scenery
Anne Steward introduces us to the ancient Korean poetic form, Sijo, presenting two of her own poems written in this form.
Open Writing readers are invited to try their hand at writing Sijo.
Sandy James’s Yorkshire dialect poem reveals that there is more than one way to spell petrol.
...wrapped in love, I face the future day
To share with others what in love I find...
John Ayling distils into words the miracle of love.
Paddy Webb's poem conjures up an autumnal moorland view more effectively than any camera.
The untimely death and funeral of Diana, the Princess of Wales, moved Vera Sanderson to write this stirring poem.
"Where love abides there is no place for fear...''
John Ayling is comforted by the enduring presence of God.
Anne Veronica Steward wrote this vividly pictorial poem to celebrate the arrival of the mango rain in Cambodia, a harbinger of a blessing to come.
Sandra Mills’s Yorkshire dialect poem tells of a a door mat bearing an imperative message for the High and the Migbhty.
John Ayling's poem says we should fill each day with joyful work and loving play.
Anne Veronica Steward was moved to write this powerful poem after visiting a minefield in Cambodia.
An account of that visit will appear in Open Writing next week.
"I intend visiting Rwanda later this year, and I every time I think of it
tears gather in my eyes,'' says poet Masimba Biriwasha.
Have a listen to this heart-rending tune.
John Ayling's poem brings the encouraging message that we should travel on in hope.
Masimba Biriwasha's words express a longing to understand the essence of the beautiful flame lily - God's flower.
John Ayling's poem reminds us that there are few sorrows when faith replaces fear.
Caroline Glyn expresses the sombre reflections of a man nearing the end of his time.
John Ayling wrote this poem for his wife Winifred for her 93rd birthday.
John Ayling found that he was having more fun in old age than he did when he was young.
This dialect poem by Sandra Mills is a plea for “them’’ to stop mucking about with our milk.
For more of Sandra’s words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=sandra+mills
Vera Sanderson tells of the shattering of one family's secutiry and bliss.
After 67 years of married life John Ayling found that his love for his wife grew ever deeper.
...Enough, enough of this conspired bluff!..,
Sandra Mills, despairing of organised religion, puts in a plea for a return to spirituality.
Vera Sanderson wrote this poem for her sister as a memorial to their parents who met on Armistice Day, 1918.
John Ayling writes a deeply thoughful poem about that most famous supper.
But oh, on that day,
When one of those man-made miracles
Brought you across the world to me...
There is romance in the air in this poem by Sandra Mills.
Chief K Masimba Biriwasha issues a passionate and optimistic prediction that the waters of freedom will soon flow in his native land, Zimbabwe.
Do please visit Masimba's Web site http://ohmyzimbabwe.wordpress.com/
To read more of his words in Open Writing click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=masimba+biriwasha
John Ayling tells of a simple communion celebration.
Vera Sanderson's poem brings welcome assurance of comfort.
To read more of Vera's poems please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=vera+sanderson
Caroline Glyn is lost in her own thoughts on a night journey.
The approach of night awakens thoughts of mortality in John Ayling.
Sandra Mills sends this chuckle-filled Yorkshire dialect poem from Sydney, Australia.
Jean Cowgill’s poem, redolent with the sights sounds and smells of Portugal, reminds us that folk are much the same whichever country they live in.
John Ayling's poem is as instant and pleasing as a smile.
Chief K Masimba Biriwasha voices a hearfelt poetic plea for an end to dictatorial opression.
Do please visit Masimba's Web site http://ohmyzimbabwe.wordpress.com/
John Ayling tells of the dream of his great-grandchildren.
Caroline Glyn writes of a brilliantly enclosed life.
If man is fallen, why then good?
If hatred reigns why do we love?
If all is hopeless why the road?
And why still lift our eyes above?
John Aylings' poem points the way to gratitude and hope.
Caroline Glyn's poem tells of the awakening of time.
In this poem John Ayling expresses the profound parental love for his daughter.
John Ayling's poem plumbs the depths of despair, yet also expresses an inextinguishable joy.
Edward Spiers' poem highlights the fragility of a human life - and the worthwhile and enduring wonder of a well-constructed poem.
John Ayling recalls moments of temptation on London Bridge.
Miriam McAtee’s poem epitomizes the ache, the longing for a loved one who has departed.
For more of Miriam’s words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=miriam+mcatee
Here are more words from John Ayling who, when he retired from full-time church work, wrote a poem every day for his beloved wife Winifred.
Paddy Webb's poem conjures up a perfect time and place.
When John Ayling retired from full-time service as an Anglican minister he decided to write a poem every day for his beloved wife Winifred.
Some of these poems will now be appearing in Open Writing.
John Brian Leaver's poem is a vivid evocation of a tired man's tram ride home.
Only the wind moves, muttering as in dreams...
William Ruleman brings us this translation of “Winternacht” by Joseph von Eichendorff (1788-1857)
...A quick yank at the nylon, and it clicks into place
my eyes meet the wing mirror, and motion begins,
concrete and steel guides to the corporate wasteland, commencing search for a space
surrounded by vultures, with greased hair and seedy grins...
The world can often seem a cold, hostile place, as this poem by Edward J Spiers vividly reveals. Edward is a new voice in Open Writing. We welcome his words.
John Brian Leaver's poem reflects the achingly beautiful splendour of a moonlit night.
For more of Brian's words - poems and prose - please click on
The sight of falling snowflakes inspired this poem by Caroline Glyn.
...In twos and threes,
They rudely hack,
Enjoying the view,
From up above
The lesser folk.
A V Steward's poem raises dreams of unhampered motoring, four-legged freedom and the discomposure of those lordly hackers who think they own the road.
...You must rise again from the dark,
If only to suffer new pain...
William Ruleman's splendid translation of a Hugo von Hofmannsthal poem offers a fine guide to how life should be lived.
For more of William's poems please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=william+ruleman
William Ruleman's poem reveals in wondrous brevity that a winter tree, the tuneful bluster of Winter winds, bear tribute to the quest for goodness of their Maker.
To read more of William's poems please click here http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=william+ruleman
...all France sulks and sweats
And seemingly has no beauty after all.
But still, amid the broiling, painful sun
I feel a sensation in me call.
It wakens glories that I never knew before...
Caroline Glyn's thoughts are carried back to distant times while on a train journey in France.
William Ruleman brings this simple yet profound new year poem - a translation of lines by Joachim Ringelnatz (1883-1934)
William Ruleman presents a translation of “Ein Winterabend” by Georg Trakl (1887-1914), a poem with a comforting message for all the years.
William Ruleman presents a timely translation of “Die Heilige Nacht” By Eduard Mörike (1804-1875)
William Ruleman's luminous poem is a reminder of the enduring relevance of the Nativity.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem brings comfort to the grieving.
Sonia Noble wrote this poem when her border collie was just a puppy. It express the joy of walking with a dog on a crisp, sunny morn.
William Ruleman's memorable poem reminds us that there is resilience and comfort to be found in Nature's restorative arms.
William Ruleman captures the season and its colours in well-honed words.
Linda McLean’s poem brings solace to those in greatest need.
To read more of Linda’s words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=linda+mclean
William Ruleman's poem highlights the fear and panic which goes along with these tough financial times.
Watch out for more of William's excellent poems in future editions of Open Writing.
John Brian Leaver's wish, should he return in another time, is, with pen in hand, to rediscover the eternal truths.
To read more of his poetry and prose please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=john+brian+leaver
Brian Jenkinson's poem concerns a nine-year-old boy's confusion over that word "disabled''.
John Waddington-Feather senses turbulent history as he walks an ancient road.
Linda McLean’s poem says that love is too heavy a burden to be supported by a flimsy thread.
Linda McLean asks us to share the thoughts of those confined to wheelchairs.
Caroline Glyn's poem concerns the season when Nature begins to grow old.
Caroline Glyn's poem concerns the wonder of water, and those creatures which live in it.
A path beckons, but do we have the resolve to go where it might lead?
Masimba Biriwasha sends us another thoughtful poem from Chiang Mai, Thailand. To read more of Masimba's words please type his name in the search box in the menu on this page.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem tells of the dawning of a faith in the future.
...Such richness was in that field,
It shone in the air, the very clouds were loaded
With goodness of hay, and the dust smelt sweet...
Caroline Glyn celebrates the glory and mystery of harvest time.
Love hangs on a slender and fragile thread, says Linda McLean.
Caroline Glyn finds peace rather than fear in the stillness of the night.
Brian Jenkinson celebrates his favourite month.
...For long I pushed against either rock seeking to carve out of stone what I imagined myself to be... But now Masimba Biriwasha settles into the middle path.
For more of Masimba's wonderful poems please type his name in the search box on this page.
Tracy Gaddin, who died while still young, knew what it was like to live through the depths of anguish and self-doubt.
Yet from those depths she drew inspiration for poems which have affected readers on every continent.
Three of her poems have already appeared in Open Writing. To read them type Tracy's name in the search box.
Here now is another of her poems, an endearing expression of her love for her aunt, the sister of her mother Dianne.
Tracy's words live on, bringing comfort to those in need.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem expresses a longing for youth... for dreams unclouded by fear.
Caroline Glyn's poem tells of the aching demands of homework.
Caroline Glyn's poem captures the moment of a leave-taking.
Joyce Worsfold presents a psalm for the troubled - a psalm for all people.
Grey clouds remind Caroline Glyn of ancient gods.
There's a fragile beauty in the view through a misty window, as Caroline Glyn's poem reveals.
A mere glimpse from a speeding train was sufficient to give birth to this poem by Caroline Glyn.
Caroline Glyn paints a word portrait of a world-famous station.
Joyce Worsfold's poem reminds us of why we exist.
From a wet and dark Earth Caroline Glyn dreams of space.
Joyce Worsfold's unforgettable words will make you realise just how lucky you are.
On Mothers' Day 1993 an IRA bomb exploded in Warrington, Betty McKay's home town, and killed two children. The horrific event prompted her to write these verses.
Trains are the lords of the night, says Caroline Glyn's poem.
Ken Patterson wrote this poem for his granddaughter Haven, who was then five years old.
Open Writing has already published two poems by Tracy Gaddin, who in her all-too-short life wrote words which brought comfort to others who also suffered from mental anguish.
Those poems, which can be read by typing Tracy's name into the search box on this page, were greeted with enthusiasm by readers around the world.
Here now is another poem by Tracy, written when she was not feeling unwell and was able to welcome the dawn of a new day. Our thnaks for to her mother, Dianne, for allowing us to publish it.
May Johnson lived in Whitstable during the flood of 1953. She died in 1995. Her poem is presented by her relatives Ian and Jennifer Johnson as a memorial to a beloved aunt.
Caroline Glyn's poem reflects upon the fact that though people shelter behind identical masks, beneath the surface no two are the same.
Marjorie Upson presents two poems which feature the Yorkshire river which flows through her home town - the River Calder.
Caroline Glyn tells of a dozing fisherman who experiences a colourful dream.
Linda McLean's poem brings the reassurance that after life's storms there is calm.
...There are feelings in my fingertips that remind me of you.
The satin of your shoulder that makes me want to cry...
Brian Lockett's poem tells of the images of love which, though they may fade, never disappear.
Betty McKay's poem concerns first thoughts.
Caroline Glyn tells of a bleak, seemingly-endless road.
...But I bless you, child of my mind,
who went where I could never go, behind
the images, into the myths, and raised them for me
visible in a magic painting book...
A child's gift brings to Caroline Glyn a different outlook on the world.
...My greatest elation is the exultation
That follows five hours' silence and desolation.
Each night I lie in darkness and I die
A true death, when at last I cease to be I...
Caroline Glyn welcomes the oblivion of darkness and night.
...A frozen midnight and a dream that did not pass.
He lay in great peace in the straw, and heard,
still sounding on, the all-creating word;
Above the doorway marched the circling stars,
Turning on the unseen point, on the unheard cry;
As his own life had rested all along
On that which he now knew as awakening song;
Beneath his time he had felt it timelessly lie...
Caroline Glyn writes of the illuminating light that burst upon Caedmon.
Betty McKay's poem conjures up the frightening and hilarious days of wartime as seen through they eyes of a child.
...These swaying boughs seem to chatter and joke
Gesturing as if they were dignified ancient ladies
Enjoying a fashionable cocktail party...
Caroline Glyn conveys the courtly nature of elm trees.
Caroline Glyn's poem celebrates one of Nature's fearsome wonders.
The persistent rosebay willow brings colour and life, even to a scrapyard, as John Waddington-Feather's poem reveals.
John Waddington-Feather expresses his affection for that cunning rogue - the fox.
Recently we published a poem entitled To Inspire The Vanquished by Tracy Gaddin which brought an enthusiastic and appreciative response from readers around the world.
From the depths of her own anguish Tracy was able to fashion words which brought sympathetic comfort to troubled souls.
Here is another poem by Tracy - an offering of nourishing words that will implant themselves in hearts and minds.
...Your favourite meal was turnip leaves
Nasturtiums pleased you too,
Cabbage and grass, oatmeal and bread,
E’en docken leaves would do!...
Hugh S Robertson's heart-warming poem tells of the rescue and befriending of a frightened young animal.
Masimba Biriwasha's profound poem concerns the greatest evil: the rule by force of one country over another.
Masimba Biriwasha writes of the seemingly fragile but undeniable power that drives the longing for freedom.
Do please type Masimba's name into the search box on this page to read more of his moving and inspirational poetry.
Tracy Gaddin's heart-felt poem expresses desperation, and a desire to be free from hangups.
At the heart of Tracy's words is a deep sympathy for and a desire to help those who suffer from depression.
John Waddington-Feather's poem is as noble and natural as the bird it concerns.
John Waddington-Feather hails that humble flower, the daisy - a small copy of the sun.
Then, one day, the ripples of our hope
Grew into a crest-high wave
That tore through the dictator's barbed walls
And made us believe again...
Masimba Biriwasha writes a powerful and memorable poem about the most prizes of human possessions - freedom. The force of his words are all the greater when you realise that Masimba, who now lives and works in Thailand, is an exile from his troubled homeland, Zimbabwe.
To read more of his poems please type his name in the menu on this page.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem brings to life the power of the word.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem tells the shocking tale of a naughty lady.
Joyce Worsfold writes a poem about people in need – then asks questions about what can be done to help them.
...you must become quiet so
you perceive the river of light
on the edge of adversity...
Poet Masimba Biriwasha shines a light on the difficult path we follow towards the meaning of life.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem expresses the lightness and beauty, the hopes and dreams of a fragile butterfly.
For more of Masimba's richly imagined poems please type his name in the search box on this page.
Masimba Biriwasha, personally aware of the unending anguish of exile from one's homeland, tells of the desire that no dictator can supress - the longing for freedom.
...Out of the mud, the lotus of your being unveils itself..
Masimba Biriwasha's poem advises us to look within ourselves to find that for which we search.
Masimba Biriwasha presents a poem which sings and swirls across the blankness of time and space.
Masimba Biriwasha's words will haunt your thoughts.
"The function of an artist is to reveal an inner divine realm,'' says Masimba Biriwasha. "This essential divinity is tragically submerged in humanity. To ignore this divine impulse is to destroy one's potential for achieving authentic selfhood and psychological maturity."
This poem by Masimba concerns a woman who unlocks her imprisoned soul.
...Dreaming a different dream is hard,
A dream with eyes wide open, a dream
That makes blood within to boil with renewed passion,
A dream that weaves music like a butterfly's wings,...
Poet Masimba Biriwasha's words give visibilty to the deepest human desires and feelings.
...My heart urges me in whispers -
It tells me to swing and dance in the wind of a rediscovered self
Like a morning butterfly - so sweet, so free, so there...
That fine poet Masimba Biriwasha tells of thoughts and feelings experienced by every questing human being.
Masimba Biriwasha sees a message of hope and inspiration in a dead butterfly.
For more of Masimba's wonder-filled poems please type his name in the menu on his page.
Masimba Biriwasha reminds us that the price of freedom is the blood of dead heroes and martyrs.
Mary Shepherd of Ashington, Northumberland - a Geordie, and rightly proud of the fact - brings us an ode to stottie cake. Stottie is a kind of bread - and if you haven't eaten it, well you really haven't lived.
...fill that dream here
amid strife and stone
let the dream
sing through your fingers
carrying you to the brink
of that golden river...
Masimba Biriwasha's poems awaken a realisation of the wonderful possibilites for the human heart and soul.
To read more of his words please type his name in the search box on this page.
Oh for those days of the old-fashioned telephone. Katharine Bentley is no fan of the mobile phone, as her poem reveals.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem nurtures the thought that each day is a new-minted opportunity to live a full life.
There is compassion and understanding in Joyce Worsfold's poem about the fading of the light.
Masimba Biriwasha's poem concerns an ancient dream, and a noble vision.
Masimba Biriwasha believes that the function of an artist is to reveal an inner divine realm. This essential divinity is tragically submerged in humanity. To ignore this divine impulse is to destoy one's potential for achieving authentic selfhood and psychological maturity.
His poem most satisfyingly proves his point.
Masimba is the Policy and Programming Coordinator of Health & Development Networks based in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Please visit www.hdnet.org
Brian Jenkinson tells of the last night of Peter the Apostle.
Ramraj Khakurel of Nepal sums up in verse his overwhelming urge to write.
Mike Cunningham brings a sombre word portrait of life in present-day Johannesburg, once the most vibrant and well-run city in Africa, but now sliding into chaos, crime, filth and degradation.
Mike lived in the city for 15 years and was proud of what had been achieved by its builders. His words were prompted by an evocative prose-poem by regular Open Writing contributor Barbara Durlacher who described the Johannesburg of yesteryear.
Both Mike's and Barbara's words appeared in editions this week of the online newspaper OhmyNews International.
But still the pepper waved its green fronds gaily,
Though breezes stirring them were hot and dry...
Elaine Lawton tells a rhyming tale of a tree that became a shrubbery.
Miriam McAtee’s poem is about a search familiar to everyone who tries to write.
…Yet those who in stained windows shine
Led lives the same as yours and mine.
And some whose halos have been won
Did things much worse than those we've done…
Brian Jenkinson’s poem is a reminder of the great things that are expected of us..
Masimba Biriwasha, an African living far from his homeland, brings us this heartfelt poem.
Violet Kendal’s poem indicates that Nature is fashion conscious.
...The time left to go often occupies my thoughts, and others of my age.
A lifetime that seemed infinite not long ago, now has a more defined dimension...
As the minutes tick away John Merchant pedals a stationary bicycle, his thoughts turning to that most significant of countdowns.
As snowflakes fall Moira Marchant thinks of childhood days. Moira grew up in Newfoundland.
Brian Jenkison’s poem recalls the bright angel who guided the wise men to Bethlehem.
Margaret Smith Macabe writes of her "Bonny Lad", Wilfred Dobson, who died earlier this year. Margaret was not much more than a baby when she met Wilf who was 'walking out’ with Rene Bray, the daughter of her neighbour across the street. The pair of them hit it off at once and began a friendship that endured for the better part of sixty years and will – as Margaret writes in her poem – be resumed when eventually she follows on to that place where Wilf has gone.
Bonny Lad is an oft-used expression of endearment by Geordies, folk born near the banks of the Tyne in the environs of the city of Newcastle, Northumberland.
A photograph of a small dog whose rear legs had had to be removed and replaced by wheels inspired Jean Cowgill to venture into verse.
Brian Jenkinson’s poem reminds us of the first Christmas.
You need all five senses to experience the best of Christmas, as June Digby reveals.
Miriam McAtee recalls the world as seen through the eyes and sensed through the nose of an infant.
Oh dear! Santa’s getting podgy, he’s eating too much pud, says Aileen Boyed.
…“Happy Christmas,” cried Mum, “Just see what I’ve brought,”
As she laid the bundle down. I kissed her.
It might have been boots! Well that’s what I thought…
What was this astonishing bundle that Mum had brought home? Barbara Burden reveals the delightful secret.
The mountain is still,
Silver grey in the morning light…
Len Bourne’s poem paints a pacific scene.
So why does she bake those Devonshire pasties when she could buy them ready-made? Joyce Moon’s wise poem reveals the reason.
Cecilia Evans had a shivery, chilly time in that holiday bungalow.
Marjorie Upson’s poem was inspired by by Margaret Thatcher’s resignation as Prime Minister and leader of the Conservative Party. She also had in mind Thomas Hood‘s poem of the same title.
“Is there anything good about winter?’’ Alan Davey asks.
Marion McKeen's poem reveals that choosing marmalade can be a queasy business.
Marion writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
Amazing what a spot of winter sunshine can do, as Joyce Moon's poem reveals.
Edith Pleasance asks us to pity the poor who strived for a crust.
Ted Morris brings a poem for this Remembrance Sunday.
Cecily Cross writes of a peaceful place where you hear curlew's lonely call.
Joyce Moon's poem reflects upon the clasroom injustice of long ago.
Aileen Boyed tells of a profane message from the mystic.
Here at Halloween is a suitably spooky poem by Sylvia Wiseman.
Meryl Nickels conjures up clear pictures in a series of three-line poems.
Mary Clemons says a great deal about love in seven emotive lines of poetry.
Aileen Boyed considers the subject closest to every human heart.
It’s awfully hard to build a nest, says Kay Savage.
Elwyn Frankel presents poems which paint big pictures with few words.
Mike Eastwood presents a chuckle-filled hymn to DIY, based on All Things Bright And Beautiful. Come on now, all join in – but not with hammer and paint-brush!
Meryl Nickels's poem conveys the sheer incredibility of high speed flight.
Ann Danskin's poem recalls a long-ago disaster - a first and last sea-going for four young men.
Ann writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please do visit www.bonzer.org.au
Arthur Gilliland writes a poem about Autumn, the time when juicy richness bears its fruit, and nature swells in completeness...
Judith Joyce Poe reflects on the ageing proces as she watches the world in its candlelight dance.
Judith writes for Bonzer! magazine. Do please visit www.bonzer.org.au
Sue Papworth writes a poem about what is necessary - or, maybe, what isn't.
Joyce Worsfold's profoundly moving poem is about the reawakening of happy memories.
Meryl Nickels wonders whether this millennium will bring fragmentation, or the fruition of the theories espoused in that great learning centre, Cambridge.
There is, sadly, an urgency about Guy Roberts's poem, even though it was written six years ago to mark the beginning of a new millenium.
Darwin coined the theory of evolution, but now mankind has created evilution, says Lee Cohen.
Randal Looney's poem was inspired by a slogan on a paint-spattered truck. It read: RENT MY HUSBAND.
David Bennett's poem distils the sweetness of a summer's day.
Randal Looney remembers his youthful days in rural Arkansas.
All we need now is a good tune to match Randal's words - and we have a live-for-ever country classic.
In the quiet Chapel of a basilica in Bruges, unexpectedly, Jane Williams was offered the blood of Christ to venerate. She then found herself asking the biggest question that can be asked.
Jane Williams's beautiful poem is steeped in the anguish of losing the most important person in her life.
To read more of Jane's profound poetry type her name in the search box on this page.
The wicket-keeper fails to catch cleanly
being a casualty of the double-edged sword
of middle age and arthritis...
Jean Cowgill writes with delight of the true nature and joy of village cricket.
Open Writing's treasured columnist Ronnie Bray writes a poem for a very special lady on her very special day.
A solitary sentinel prepares for his midday meal…
Innocent lunch swims towards him….
Jean Cowgill looks out across the estuary, one of Nature's lunch tables.
In telling his father's story in this true-life poem Lawson Anderson says enough to fill a book about life in a Delta town, USA, forty-three years ago.
Jenny Cooper writes a poem about the most promising of the four seasons.
When Randal Looney was a youngster he used to sneak off to his safe harbour, his maternal grandmother's home. She always greeted him with a sing-song "Come in this house, child.''
…Almost every day he came to the library, stooped and carrying a worn shopping bag and every day he told me the same stories as he collected his books. "Did I ever tell you that I worked at York Minster?”….
Joyce Worsfold was moved to write a poem about the life of the old man
James A Christmas writes a poem about a Scottish rail journey.
"When you get older...'' sang The Beatles long ago. "...will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four...''
And now Sir Paul McCartney, one of the two surviving Beatles, has just turned 64. And Elsie Eva was prompted to dig out the following poem which she wrote when she reached that significant age.
Randal Looney got the idea for this poem from a news story a couple years ago. An Arkansas woman had to choose which of her children she was going to save in a flash flood.
This poem by David Bennett voices a final farewell plea.
Joyce Worsfold's poem captures the reality and the symbolism of one of the biggest events in the sheep farmer’s year.
Evelyn Frankel writes of a dream of a dress.
…One dreads to hear that might
Has gained another victory…
Moira Marchant’s poem is as topical today as it would have been in any other age.
Their voices a monotonous maa-aa
Grumbling like old men….
It’s sheep-shearing time in this documentary poem by Joyce Worsfold.
Paul Brickell, with a chuckle in his rhymes, tells how the summer solstice came by its name.
Carole is a student at a school for people with learning difficulties. Her poem reflects her feelings when faced with the demands of a bureaucratic regime.
Joyce Worsfold writes of the communion services in a Yorkshire village church – and of the people who kneel "each with a life full and rushed, too little trust and always pushed''.....
Clifton Grady's raw wrenched-from-the-gut poem concerns the dark underside of family life. It's a poem you are not likely to forget.
Here is a delicious poem submitted by Eddie Joffe, an expatriate South African living in London.
Randal Looney wrote this poem while thinking of the passing of his favorite writer, Larry Brown. The gloaming refers to the dusk of the day, not quite dark, not quite light. Randal feels it is the best part of the day, as did Mr Brown.
In Joyce Worsfold’s poem rock and roll weaves its magic on Rosie, a care home resident.
Joyce Worsfold’s poem reminds us of how important it is for a child to play - but not alone.
My heart shuts an iron gate
The daily color is black...
This poem by Mary Clemons concerns the unwelcomed bleakness of being alone.
A concatenation of sounds conjure up memories of childhood and adolescence for Jean Cowgill.
But my soul is afraid of nothing
It lives in a bubble of joy….
Joyce Worsfold wrote this poem on a night when she could not sleep for worrying about her father, who was facing major surgey with only a slim chance of survival.
Helga Lomas tells us of Old Ted, who found comfort and consolation in his “local’’.
“A number of years ago my husband and I were staying on holiday with a family in Germany. During this period they took us to see the museum and gravesites at Belsen,’’ says Ellie Pemberton. “I was so shocked and the experience had such a profound effect on me that I felt I must write about it as soon as I returned home.”
This given child lives in my heart and mind
Yet all her fate is silence.
Ronnie Bray mourns the loss of a great-granddaughter who was given away.
The regular pacings of an office worker prompt speculations in this poem by Randal Looney.
Sounds conjure up pictures of “yesterday’’ in Jean Cowgill’s richly nostalgic poem.
Miriam McAtee compares the land in which she was born to the land she chose to live in.
What a loud noise silence can make, says Trevor Ward.
Barbara Robinson, a Sandgrown ‘Un as the natives of Blackpool are called, writes a poem about the famous seaside town.
Here is a poem from Gerry Marks Tatham who was born and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and taught as an adjunct professor of English for Austin Peay State University (Clarksville, Tennessee) and University of Kentucky at its Fort Campbell campus. She has edited branch bulletins for American Association of Univesity Women, both in Tennessee and Florida. Her background in gag-writing includes personalized Gerry-bilt Cards: "For those who really care for the cheap way out."
Since the Tathams' retirement to Edgewater, Florida in 1995, Gerry has begun to publish poetry and short fiction. Two of her poems have been accepted for "The Poet's Page" in The Pen Woman and her poetry and short stories have been anthologized by Two Friends Publishers.
Gerry is presently writing a murder mystery in the "Malice Domestic" category and is a member of Mystery Writers of America.
Sale time at Marks and Spencer
Everything’s up for grabs.
The women surge like a tidal wave,
Grimly battling in the effort to save…
Pat Morton writes of the joys and frustrations of going to the sales.
Every morning she went down to the pond and cried “Fish, fish, fish.’’ Then one morning the neighbours didn’t hear her. Betty Collins’s short poem tells a big story.
Elizabeth Thompson tells of Uncle Bert, a man with a senimental attachment to his posessions.
Visit Elizabeth's Web site lizthompson.blogspot.com
Brian Lockett brings poetic advice on the best thing that can be done with trees.
Phyllis Pankratz writes of a candy making disaster.
In a few vivid lines Randal Looney tells the life story of a poor boy in America's Deep South.
Renee Lowe’s poem is drawn from the depths of the well of sadness.
Miriam McAtee’s poem suggests that we should live life in innocence, gratefully, not trying to solve its mystery.
Love is an artic blast
That freezes logic and frosts
The window of reality.
Mary Clemons seeks to capture in words the greatest human emotion.
Miriam McAtee thinks considers the seasons as a life story.
Now I can see, what you gave to me
The courage to fight and the wisdom of letting it be…
Susan Smith Atti’s poem expresses the deepest gratitude.
Jackie Mallinson's poem calls for a perspective which reveals that a garden is far bigger than our dreams.
Joyce Worsfold’s poem brings the reassuring message that prayers open doors.
Without the sky
The world would be
A dismal place
For you and me.
Brian Lockett's witty poem will first make you smile, then make you think.
Jackie Mallinson's wonders how a man would cope with the gift of a woman's total love.
Miriam McAtee writes of a dawn which brings hope and the will to carry on.
Mary Clemons has a premonition that something bad is going to happen.
But Chiswick, lovely Chiswick, shows
How quickly you can shed your woes.
The peace and calm and ordered life
Dispel the stress, displace the strife.
Brian Lockett celebrates his home territory, lovely Chiswick.
Jan Van Eyck's famous painting, The Arnolfini Marriage, inspired Jean Cowgill to these entertaining and insightful musings.
"But I know my rights are someone else’s wrongs...'' Jackie Mallinson's poem points the way to a peaceful world.
Jess Shea muses on the one who holds the remote which controls our lives.
Miriam McAtee writes of a house that is content to stand alone, dreaming of former times.
Miriam McAtee's poem regretfully surveys a lifetime of wishing.
...“I’ll bet you shudder every time
The sky turns grey.
All that rain...''
The rain is coming in, and the builder comes to inspect the roof. Jackie Mallinson's poem will make every homeowner go outside to apprehensively stare upwards.
A poem from Joyce Worsfold for this special day.
Arthur Gilliland finds exactly the right words for this Christmas Eve.
In Jackie Mallinson's poem the glimpse of a fox in the night prompts thoughts of the rights and goodness of humankind.
Brian Jenkinson writes a poem about the inn, and the birth of the Babe born to be King.
"Whereas unholy male persons who commit foul play should be made
To get the best of Betty Collins's polemic poem, glance over your shoulder, make sure nobody is hovering near you and the computer screen, then read - or rather chant - it aloud.
…magnificent in rage
ripping, roaring, rousting
a monster in action…
Miriam McAtee puts words to the destructive will of a storm.
There is nothing that God cannot do
The angel said..
Joyce Worsfold brings us an Advent poem.
“This land of running water
The thundering music of the mountains…’’
Bob Ellis the breathtaking splendour of the landscape of an ancient kingdom.
In the darkness of an English winter Jackie Mallinson's poem reminds us of light summer nights, and the joy of again seeing swallows.
Brian Jenkinson’s poem features a grumpy 21st Century Wenceslas.
Miriam McAtee celebrates the life-giving power of rain.
Randal Looney reveals the poetry in simple things, such as a chain and a gate latch.
Randal Looney's poem is an account of the burning of the vacant shell of a house on the outskirts of a town in rural Arkansas.
The eternal mystery of life encompassed
In one inspiring view
Bob Ellis writes of natural wonders on a watery day.
Jackie Mallinson's poem resignedly recogises the harder path to follow.
"October sweeps in upon its high and mighty horse,
Bearing memories instead of a noble rider...''
J.E.M paints a word portrait of the tenth month.
“The circle of life spins
Returning to just us…
Mary Clemons recognizes eternity in true love.
Tony Ellis writes of those very special moments when the universe seems knowable.
"My dream is like a softness on the air...'' Jackie Mallinson finds more knowledge in dreams than in tele-mentored talk, talk, talk.
Randal Looney's poem distils the essence of a small dreary town in the Mississippi Delta.
Mary Clemons writes of a blood-chilling nightmare in which goblin, witch and devils come dancing into her room.
Perhaps I can sneak
Into the light
And become accidently aware…
Tony Ellis’s poem longs for a glorious might-be.
Jackie Mallinson's poem says our modern times have created too harsh a climate for romantic love.
Miriam McAtee rhymes a tale about a princess who is seriously lacking in the common sense department.
David Reid brings us eight rhyming lines, and one big chuckle.
Tony Ellis is aware of an inner sacredness that is beyond the reach of mere words.
"I would cast adrift my boat on such a morning, lift my sails, and contentedly slip on to pose a question in some other place.'' Jackie Mallinson is awake and alert to pssibilities on a bright new day.
Soon, very soon, it will be hear again. That festival of consumerism, Christmas. Betty Collins’s poem reminds us of a deeper significance.
“In the evening
A rabbit threw its life at the wheels of my car
And was gone in a quick bump of tire…’’
Tony Ellis’s sombre words match a grim day in human affairs.
Jackie Mallinson muses on the fate of autumn in our modern urbanised world.
David Reid has some rhyming advice to wayward golfers.
There’s humour and a deep seriousness in Tony Ellis’s poem about buying a god for $9.50, plus tax.
"I lose the modern touch
And words that once were foreign catch
Jackie Wearing's poem broods upon life's autumn.
Mary Clemons's poem, seemingly simple yet very profound, confirms that two arms can enfold the whole of human happiness and contentment.
“Let us not miss but do and chance and live…..’’ Miriam McAtee’s poem recommends that we should not mourn the passing of the years.
What's this? A pilot with a white stick? The passengers in David Reid's poem have reason to be concerned.
“Have you ever looked in a mirror and seen infinity covered in a stranger’s mask...?'' Tony Ellis’s poems germinate in the mind, changing one’s thoughts and perceptions of the world.
Thelma Bandy's poem features an extraordinarily lively Linclolnshire lass.
David Reid sums up a happy life in twelve rhyming lines.
“…I giggle inside with joy, a child who, for a fraction of time has sneaked into God’s garden…’’ Tony Ellis’s poem tells of the profound bliss that is the gift of meditation.
It’s difficult to hold a conversation in an aquarobics class, as Betty Collins’s strenuous poem reveals.
Oh dear! What was that bump in the carpet. Prepare yourself for a good giggle as you scan David Reid's odd ode.
Tony Ellis's short poem is as vast as ll that we know.
In this short poem Miriam McAtee conveys the strange “reality’’ of a dream.
Life isn't easy for mice. But the mouse narrator in David Reid's poem has reasons to be cheerful.
In this seemingly-simple poem Tony Ellis distils the essence of a child's ability to create wonders out of the ordinary and the everyday.
David Reid's brisk rhyme will make you chuckle.
“A sky chalked by the
of loops and roll-overs…’’
Cecily Cross captures in words the balletic manoevres of an air show.
Read, absorb and accept the message in this profound poem by Tony Ellis - and you will learn all that you need to know to lead a happy life.
You see I discovered
One lucky fine day
That using a snoover
Was quite a new way.
Grown ups don't know about snoovers. Only children are aware of their magical computing powers and their ability to help with chores. But Robert Beecher's splendidly bouncy poem indicates that modern tehnology will never replace the honest grind of homework.
A TONY ELLIS poem is a link to life's deepest secrets and significances. The next time you see a hawk, remember that it is doing an appointed task.
Tony Ellis's short poem is full of wonder and delight.
Caroline Glen's poem is a powerful and moving protest at the folly and futility of wars,
See more poems by Caroline, and numerous other writers, on her Web site: http://www.kookamongasquare.com/carolineglen/
After graduating from West of England College of Art, Tony Ellis spent over twenty-five years studying meditation and Vedic philosophy with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. His work has taken him to many parts of the world, including India, The Philippines, Switzerland, Holland and the United States. He has been a production manager and editor for educational presses in both Europe and the United States and has collaborated with leading entertainers organizing concerts for world peace.
He now resides in Fairfield, Iowa, and Vancouver, BC, with his wife, Marion, and writes and produces books and films about spiritual life. His first book of spiritual verse, There is Wisdom in Walnuts was published in 2004; a second volume, The Morning Tree follows soon.
Some of Tony's poems and prose will be featured in Open Writing in forthcoming weeks. Today's poem shares the same title as his book.
David Bennett writes a personal poem about an average sort of man.
In the blink of an eye Rosemary Mitchell turns a cliché into a poem.
June Digby's poem about summer sunshine ends with a warning that chills the blood.
Jean Cowgill's trek on Britain's premier long distance walk produced a crop of blisters on her feet - and this witty poem.
"Low moss-covered rocks and lush green ferns border the path to Tullawallal...'' Ilse Erber writes a poem imbued with the style of W B Yeats about a very special place.
Jean Cowgill writes a fast-flowing poem about the life-span of the River Esk in North Yorkshire.
Mike Eastwood's sunny rhymes express the feelings of a worshipper of the great god Sol.
"Rose of the curb side, I see you go on your terrible nightly quest...'' Merle Parkin's poem concerns what some call "the oldest profession''.
Mike Eastwood's poem is a sober reflection on the price paid by those "ordinary'' lads in the trenches.
Jean Cowgill's evocative poem recalls days in her childhood when she carried an evening meal (snap) to her father, who worked at a local coal mine.
Elwyn Frankel's poem crackles with menace.
Ted Morris writes of that island of dreams for which we long.
Lorraine Dodd's bleak poem is inspired by a painting by Robert Jumper,
Divya Kumar sends us a poem from India about... Ah, it is up you to take your own meaning from these thoughtful words.
...Still he stands, head bowed, silently remembering those who are no more... Marjorie Upson was moved to write these verses after seeing a stone figure on a cenotaph.
Barbara Tregonning's poem focuses on the "delights'' of being a boarder at a school far from home.
Jane Williams writes an unsentimental poem about death - a poem that will continue to grow in your mind long after you have read the last line.
An apprentice relaxes after working on a garden, pleased with his proud and careful plan. But in Arthur Gilliland's thoughtful poem there is a Gardener to point out that the Maker has a much greater and all-embracing plan.
Gill Laurence's poem could not be more topical, in England now.
Retired teacher Brian Jenkinson has a timely message for a retiring head teacher.
After hearing news of the terrorist bombings in London yesterday, Lorraine Roxon Harrington, who lives in Australia, felt compelled to write this poem.
Mike Eastwood writes a rollicking poem about two drinking men, Bob and Ted - paying due obeisance to the rhythm of the children's poem Jack and Jill.
What a lucky person is the "you'' in Jean Cowgill's delicious poem.
Merle Parkin contemplates the beauty of a beach that has been manicured by the cleansing tempests of the night.
Gill Laurence's poem takes as its inspiration the song The Streets Of Laredo. Gill's tuneful poem is far cheerier than the dirge upon which it is based.
"You make me feel like straying out in the wilderness as wild things do...'' Merle Parkin writes a tribute to an old canoe.
John Bayley writes a poem about a very special summertime contest.
A slim volume of poems carries Jean Smith back to her childhood.
Joyce Worsfold writes a life-enhancing poem about an old man who lived for his garden - and for God.
Type Joyce's name in the search box on this page to read more of her wonderful poems. Her words have the power to move you to tears - tears of sadness, of mirth, of joy.
Derek Taylor's poem is a bright and breezy cautionary tale about ale.
Barbara Tregonning's moving poem expresses perfectly the strong ties between a man and his dog.
Joyce Worsfold writes with humour about that last sad event - but the humour cannot conceal an ocean of tears.
Betty Shorting's poem features a lass who is all too willing to say goodbye to Johnny.
"Each life a story cut loose upon holy ground...'' Irene Attwood's poem promotes serious thought.
When one of his friends committed suicide Sudharsan was moved to write this heart-wrenching unforgettable poem. It is a compassionate and fitting memorial to a troubled human being.
To read the eyes is to read the soul, says Arthur Gilliland's poem.
"We watched each other getting old, contented side by side...'' Gill Laurence writes a poem about the truest of true loves.
We must learn from nature if we are to build a world filled with hope, says Mike Eastwood's poem.
Joyce Worsfold's poem about children's ambitions says a great deal about changing times - and says it with a smile.
"Miles and miles of beach and ocean disappearing into nothing...'' You can hear the roll and thunder of the ocean in this poem by Lorraine Dodd.
Early Fifties summer cricket in dirt back garden or lampost street...cars with running boards, doors opening backwwards... Mike Holding's poem presents a vivid portrait of a bygone Britain, with it snobbery and class-consciousness.
Aileen Boyed, challenged to write a poem containing a given list of words, tells us of a mystified mystic.
Rosemary Mitchell's poem about a nightmare contains a scream, then a chuckle.
Irene Attwood writes a poem about what is perhaps the most difficult of all decisions - to forgive.
In Mike Holding's poem a snip and slither of the scissors creates a new man.
"...The woods with bluebells now are spread...'' Brian Jenkinson writes a poem about the wonders of the English springtime.
She dreams of tall trees, nightingales, damask light...and then she enters a place of mud. Joyce Worsfold's poem is about a life that has fallen apart.
Mike Eastwood writes a poem about one of childhood's greatest delights - staying with gran.
Ken Sylvestre sums up life and its delights in nine verses.
So what do you wear in bed when you are sixty-three? That is, what perfume do you wear? Sylvia West's delicious poem gives you the answer.
Cecil Parry's poem looks back to the Easter of two years ago - a time of war.
Fourteen-year-old Matthew Sutton, who now lives in New Zealand, writes a poem about Africa, the place from whence he came.
"Can you imagine a laughing world all day?'' Vineet Singal asks in this cheerful poem. Vineet is from New Plymouth, New Zealand.
"Another's will you do, as is another's will I, too, perform'' declares Arthur Gilliland's powerful poem in the voice of the prophet, John.
There is no other tool that personifies brilliance or shows up the fool quite as clearly as writing. Kay Savage's poem reflects on what can be achieved with a pen.
Ron Kaye, who lives in South Island, New Zealand, brings us a poem steeped in memories and longings for a homeland.
Matthew Sutton of Waiheke Island, Auckland, New Zealand, writes a poem about the harsh inevitability of life and death on the plains of Africa.
"Must we add to all the fears of natures ways?'' asks John Arie Rook of Lower Hutt, New Zealand, in this poem which brings a sombre warning.
They meet in the library at two, ladies with a spare hour or two - and please bring a nice man, says Bessie Woolrich's poem. Enid Turner comes right back with another poem, telling Bessie where those nice men are.
...I used to be thin, but now the sizes seem to grow, and all my bumps begin to show... Marjorie Upson writes a positive poem about the ageing process.
Mike Eastwood's nostalgic poem recalls the Bank Holiday when he "grew from a boy to a man''.
"The Heavens are aflame, once-mournful clouds burn bright,'' says David Bennett, as a spectacular Pennine sunset encourages deep thinking.
Brian Jenkinson presents a poem for Easter Day.
Ninety-two summers and ninety=two springs are as fragile and transient as butterfly wings, says Joyce Worsfold's poem.
"...And in that place peace wrapped me, softly, sustaining me in my eager turbulance, and carried me onward to a path of certainty.'' In this, the most important week in the Christian calendar, Arthur Gilliland brings a poem of good hope.
Will you still love me at seventy, asks Mike Eastwood in this bitter-sweet poem.
Love awakens, blossoms, grows, matures, changes, mellows, remains, endures... Love is all there is, declares Radmila Dancer's triumphant poem.
Marjorie Upson's poem features that endagered species - the road-sweeping man.
"....Bringing only one silver coin with love's imprint...'' Jane Williams's short poem is the distilled essence of love.
Thirty-five in the class. Thirty-five lives with just a few problems. Thirty-five beings who could change the world... Joyce Worsfold's poem has the power to change the way you think about teachers - and children.
Joyce Worsfold brings us a delightful poem about a couple of donkeys. No asses, they!
Enid Turner was sorting through some old snapshots when she found a photograph, taken outside the home of her grandparents, of a teenage girl on a motorbike, which resulted in a flood of memories. The girl was called Ida. Enid named her beloved celluloid doll after her. She still has the doll.
This poem is a backward glance to the time and place where the photograph was taken.
Dave Horner is collecting poems with the aim of publishing them in a book to raise money for the Disasters Emergency Committe funds.
In the wake of the horror of the 9/11 terrorist attack on New York's Trade Centre twin towers, Dave wrote the poem Missing. Following the terrible tsunami disaster, the poem is as apposite now as it was in the week it was written.
Sylvia West wrote this poem late on Christmas Day, a suitable time to consider the hardest task which every parent faces - letting go of their children.
Arthur Gilliland's moving poem is about an uncle he never had chane to meet.
"All our services are bombed out to hell and everyone says that it's for our own good...''' Mike Eastwood's powerful poem will make you think deeply about tragic events that are still unfolding in a certain country.
Strut not in pride, says Philip Sibley's thoughtful poem. If honour's justly earned, it will a bearing give.
Margaret Hakansson's poem says we have too many choices, too much to ponder.
In a time when there has never been greater need of international good-neighbourly actions, Arthur Gilliland's poem remind us of the Lucky Lucys who think only of themelves.
David Bennett presents a challenging and controversial poem for Christmastide.
Joyce Worsfold, a retired teacher, reminds us that on this special day not every child is as happy as we would wish.
A poem for today by Brian Jenkinson.
Jane Williams's achingly beautiful poem about the wonder of human love is not just for Christmas Eve. It may take up permanent residence in your memory.
Dave Horner was moved to write a poem about one of life's greatest treats - beef stew!
Brian Jenkinson uses plain words to reflect on the wonder and profundity of Christmastide.
Thelma Bandy's passionate plea for a peaceful world could not be more timely.
Brian Jenkinson's poem brings a timely reminder this Christmastide.
Nothing captures the spirit of Christmas more accurately than a nativity play performed by nursery children. And no one has captured in words the essence of a nursery nativity more wonderfully than Joyce Worsfold.
Pamela N Partridge writes an evocative poem about her secret hiding place.
Brian Jenkinson's poem voices a universal plea.
If we thought about the reason why we keep this holy season, says Brian Jenkinson's poem, then perhaps we should enjoy it after all.
People give Sylvia West tea towels which are much too posh for everyday service. She keeps them, sparkling clean and unused, in a linen store - but at least they have provided material for an amusing poem.
Brian Jenkinson's poem brings a timely reminder of why we should celebrate at Christmas.
David Bennett proves that you can drop the g from many a word and still create an enjoyable poem.
Myalgic encephalomyelitis, M.E. for short - an ugly name for a nasty, lingering illness. Arthur Gilliland writes a sensitive and moving poem about its imprisoning effects.
In this ssplendily ssibilant poem Susan Siddeley payss a vissit to the dentisst.
Jane Williams, moved to the depths of her being by the loss of her partner and lover, wrote this profoundly sad, beautiful poem.
In this eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the year - the appointed time to remember the victims of too many wars - Vera Sanderson's heart-felt poem demands that we should never forget those who gave their lives so that we might live.
A bookmark is the serious reader's most loyal friend, as Dave Horner's cheery poem reveals.
Pamela N Partridge longs to explore the English and Irish villages where her ancestors lived.
In this achingly sad poem Joyce Worsfold tells us why a young child can have the weary look of an old man.
Marie Armstrong's touching poem confirms that a happy memory can last a lifetime.
Arthur Gilliland's poem is a confirmation of the fact that if you look at the world with imaginative eyes, you will be amazed by what you see.
In this deeply-felt poem Patricia Wade expresses the feelings of those left behind when soldiers go to war.
There's more than one shiver in Brian Jenkinson's poem - but also the cheerful thought of a re-awakening earth.
Brenda Scully's poem contains the reassuring message that there are advantages in reaching one's sixtieth birthday.
Margaret Hakansson's poem suggests that we are faced with too many choices.
The narrator in Arthur Gilliland's powerful poem longs to touch and smell the land he only sees in books and dreams.
War is made from promises of glory, says Arthur Gilliland's timely poem. But the meek have a truer glory...
"Suddenly I can clearly see I'm a left-handed-scissors-sort-of-me...'' Jane Williams's poems are a constant and very special delight.
John Bayley bares the flesh in this rattling good poem.
Brian Jenkinson's short poem encapsulates the agonies experienced in the exam room.
Mike Eastwood's splendidly patriotic poem contains a timely warning.
There's a chuckle in every verse of Brian Jenkinson's poem. And the message is...but don't let me spoil it. Read on, and find out for yourself.
Nancy Kilburn describes in verse the famous 199 steps which lead from the old quarter of Whitby, the Yorkshire fishing port, up to the cliff-top church of St Mary's.
Joyce Worsfold's poem is quickly read, but it's significance is slow-burning and long-lasting.
Sixty! You don't look 60 they cry. But what does 60 look like, Brenda Scully asks in this poem?
Our love, once an eagle soaring with the angels, is now a frightened, tiny bird, writes Arthur Gilliland in this memorable poem.
Jane Williams writes an achingly sad poem about a young lad in desperate need of help.
Man has passed this way once. In an instance wiped away by the advancing tide... Philip Sibley's short poem carries a heavy warning.
Kathy Denton gains a humbling perspective on life in the natural cathedral of the Yorkshire Dales.
Joan Evans wrote this poem for her husband, who was a National Serviceman. He plays golf each Friday morning with other "Nashos''.
Clutterbuck the dustman is an object of acute desire in Jane Williams's perky poem.
In this poem Frances Power playfully juggles some well-known sayings.
Brian Jenkinson's poem tells us of plots no longer carefully tended by gardeners, yet there remains one thing to remind of past glories - a lonely little apple tree.
Mike Eastwood presents seven haiku, poems which set you thinking by speaking volumes in just three lines.
Joan Evans has written a poem about one of her favourite places, Kakadu, part of Arnhem Land in the far north of Australia.
"Do you still have relations, at your age?'' the doctor said - and what did he mean by that? Arthur Gilliland's poem is a consideration of that weighted word, relations.
There's no need to shout, to spell things out, says Betty Swancott in this funny poem. But is she right?
In this funny and deeply moving poem Joyce Worsfold describes a visit by children from a city school to a splendid Victorian house deep in the English countryside.
Brian Jenkinson writes a requiem for a local amateur dramatic group.
June Digby muses on the source of the inspiration that led to the design of a magnificent cathedral.
Childhood demands its inbred right to love, says Kathleen Holmes in this thoughtful poem.
The ebb and flow of the seasons inspired Violet Kendal to write this sequence of poems.
June McCormick paints a colourful poetic portrait of a fair - a mobile hurdy gurdy town.
James Entwistle invites sinners to join the rail line to life eternal in this spiritual poem.
Four more profound haiku to set you thinking. These come to us from Kevin Jackson in Australia.
"Take my music take my all,'' says Philip Sibley in this poem. "Memories, hopes, experience, all in sounds realled.''
A bevy of bridesmaids in silky flounces, the little one skips and gently bounces... In this heart-warming poem Joyce Worsfold gift-wraps the joy and humour of a wedding.
These five haiku by Robert Nichols are guaranteed to set you thinking.
Pity sets its own disguise when love is gone, says David Bennett in this moving poem.
Does a conductor really control an orchestra? Mike Eastwood expresses doubts in this poem which rattles along with an irresistible rhythm.
A tiny skull thin as eggshell, the backbones honey-coloured, a bird-bone pelvis fretted like old ivory, fingers and toes seed pearls unstrung...
In this profound poem Jane Williams tells of the dicovery of the bones of an infant during an archaeological dig.
Glen Taylor's vigorous poem suggests that if the noisy kids don't get you while you're on holiday, a stingray might!
Philip Sibley advises us to contemplate bird-flight and allow ourselves to be persuaded that all is well in the pastures willed to man.
"I've never done hang gliding, I've no desire to soar,'' confesses Catherine Devine in this cheerful poem.
Simply to hold hands while out walking... Rene Lowe's short poem highlights life's purest pleasures.
Brian Jenkinson writes an affectionate poem about Raffles, a dog that lost a leg in a road accident.
Renee Lowe present a fearsome drama in 13 lines of verse.
Kathleen Holmes brings us an amusing rhyming account of the dating game.
Ellen Warner's slice-of-life poem is one of the funniest you will read this week - or any week. Move over, Pam Ayres!
Elaine Day thinks back to her school days and wonders whether they really were carefree.
Jane Williams writes tenderly of a baby daughter, whose feet were not yet familiar with the hard earth.
A hand can summarise the story of a life as Glen Taylor's thoughtful poem reveals.
Former teacher Joyce Worsfold, writing with heart-felt sympathy, introduces us to children from many places.
The young farmers smell like silage bins and an ewe is munching its way through the vegetables... Glen Taylor casts an amused and affectionate eye on New Zealand's rural scene.
Stephen Morse was moved to write this poem after a reunion meeting of Winchester Cathedral Old Choristers Association.
John Kilburn, with apologies to William Wordsworth, skips briskly along to the rhythm of the Daffodil Rap.
Read Renee Lowe's daydream wishes and you will be prompted into immediately compiling your own wish list.
"If I should know too much, where would I find mystery?'' Philip Sibley muses in this intriguing poem.
Beryl Seath reveals in this poem that simple pleasures bring great joy.
Arthur Gilliland is soothed by the sight of wild swans, and a softly rippled lake.
David Bennett reflects with sober humour on the consequences of being old.
Eight-year-old Eleanor Baines writes a splendid poetic tribute to her home village.
The sobering message in Glen Taylor's poem is that boys who like to fight when they are young still want to fight when they are older.
This very special love poem was written by Jane Williams for her husband.
Philip Sibley muses on why we're always doing what we would rather not do.
Marjorie Upson, with due apologies to H W Longfellow, turns an accident into an epic poem.
With a chuckle in every verse, Enid Turner's poem details the troubles she encountered when she went to visit her son in London.
If you need an odd job man just call Stan, says Renee Lowe. But make sure you have the kettle on!
Today is the 60th anniversary of D-Day, the day allied troops landed in force on the coast of Normandy, speeding Hitler's downfall. We remember war, and the cost of war. Vera Sanderson's impassioned poem could not be more timely.
Young can't bring in the young by throwing out the old says Glen Taylor, as she reflects on the arrival of a pony-tailed new minister.
This poem is about Marjorie Shirley's memories of an eventful year, 1933. After her mother died of TB that year Marjorie's life went downhill. She was 11 years old at the time.
Trevor Ward's poem reminds us that even as the gloomy clouds gather there's reason to be glad.
Why, why, why, asks Helga Lomas? And the finest brains couldn't provide all the answers.
A fluency in the Yorkshire dialect brings the fullest enjoyment of Brian Jenkinson's poem. If you don't understand broad Yorkshire you can still have some fun working out the meaning.
Glen Taylor sees an elderly couple sitting on a seat, gazing out to sea, and imagines their life stories. This splendid poem contains a line which gently reminds parents of their most difficult task: "Their children they've raised, enjoyed and have freed...''
In this poem Philip Sibley sees trees in a different light - no longer tests of youthful sinews, but fellow travellers into old age.
David Bennett writes about an emotional walk along a village street - and wonders whether memories always make us sad.
Death the dark socialite introduced the four widows who meet in the lounge bar each to the other. All is not tears and gloom in Jane Williams's memorable poem. There's time for wine, coffee - and talk of attractive men.
Fred Simonds writes of a wind which greets returning sailors with its sweet salt breath.
So what colour should we paint the walls in the living room, the dining room, the bedrooms... Read Philip Sibley's poem - and be prepared to chuckle.
This poem with a message by Glen Taylor features a pale-faced waif in a tattered dress.
Marjorie Upson's poem was inspired by a holiday at Abbot Hall in early May.
In this poem Brian Jenkinson thinks longingly of summertime in England.
Pam Taylor's poem emphasises the wondrous nature of the life-span of a single flower.
"I stretch my hand to touch this cold hard rock, wishing to keep the past fast-fisted, wanting to keep time clasped close...'' Jane Williams's wonderful poem also deserves to be kept clasped-close by those who read it.
In this poem Philip Sibley, with a glance over his shoulder at Will Shakespeare, focuses on the fox-hunting debate - and brings us the voice of the fox.
Life is an enigma, a jigsaw puzzle, says Rosemary Mitchell in this poem.
In sixteen bold, brassy lines of poetry Ellen Warner paints a complex word portrait of New York City.
There's a big surprise in store for a park keeper in this amusing poem by Audrey Simmons.
Mike Eastwood's poem could not be more topical as we raise our umbrellas today on yet another rain-splashed Bank Holiday weekend in Britain.
As you read this descriptive poem by Glen Taylor you will "see'' Golden Bay - and feel its peacefulness.
In need of being cheered up? Here are five limericks by Mike Eastwood which should do the trick.
This poem by Marjorie Upson was inspired by a day out to Holmfirth, setting for the BBC's longest-running comedy TV programme Last Of The SummerWine.
Keith Hinchliffe's predictive powers were on top form with this poem, written in 1985. He was one of the winners in a competion to write about what life would be like in 50 years.
Is it any better than it was? Arthur Gilliland poses the question in this poem. He's referring to life, of course.
The Irish grass is glorious green, says David Bennett in this poem - but what about the blue?
Angela Black's poems are about the depopulation of the Islands and Highlands of Scotland half a century ago. They are about ordinary people who, for generations and centuries, had lived ordinary lives as crofters, farmers and fishermen, but whose lives were about to change for ever.
Brian Jenkinson tells us in this odd ode the story of Maggie Splatt, a maiden who was very fat.
In this poem Glen Taylor highlights the life-saving work of a good counsellor, but at the end of the day who takes away the counsellor's cares?
Brian Jenkinson brings us a poem for Easter Day.
When love seeks another's self to please... David Bennett captures the essence of true love in this eight-line poem.
Looking at a single tree can conjour up, complete, a vision of a bg, wide country, as Glen Taylor reveals in this poem.
Two haiku by Joyce Hinchliffe - three-line poems which reveal a big picture.
In this poem David Bennett expresses the extent of his love for a very special lady.
A haiku - a three-line poem which exercises the brain cells. Here are two fine examples by Christine Wylie.
You need a working knowledge of the Yorkshire dialect to fully appreciate this poem by Brian Jenkinson about a rich spice Christmas cake - which, by the way, is based on an actual incident.
Joyce Worsfold's poem reminds us that nursery teaching involves lots of sand - and unexpected questions.
Stephen Morse ponders deeply on the cradle that is our civilisation.
Wouldn't you feel as stressed as David Craven if you had a car with a crumpled bum?
Maggie Smith's deeply-felt poem addressed to her infant grand-daughter contains some hauntingly memorable lines.
To know tears, too
For if you never hear the howl of wolves
How can you truly know the joy of safety?
In this very funny poem Glen Taylor suggests that a mother's work never ends.
Glen, who lives in New Zealand, will soon be writing a regular column for us.
In this poem by Maggie Smith a conker symbolises loss and mortality.
Violet Kendall, with deepest affection, recalls her grandma.
Here's a topical haiku by Christine Wylie. Christine is a member of the Swanland branch of the University of the Third Age.
Stephen Morse wrote the following poem after a reunion of Winchester Cathedral Old Choristers Association.
So you think school teachers have an easy life? This warm and wonderful poem by Joyce Worsfold will remind you for ever more of the debt we owe to those who teach children.
As crocuses and snowdrops begin to reveal this year's first outbursts of floral colours Violet Kendall invites us to walk in her garden.
In this deep poem Rodney Gomersall reveals that a laughing exterior can mask inner turmoil.
The eyes have it in this poem as David Bennett contemplates his affection for his beloved.
Arthur Gilliand's poem reminds us that the commonplace can be sinister and profoundly shocking.
In this short poem, Arthur Gilliland considers moments of quiet calm.
In this heart-felt poem Joyce Worsfold writes of the delights of being a grandma.
Gwen Drewery pays tribute in verse to her home town.
David Bennett recalls the delight of being given a bike - and the still greater delight of riding it.
In this deeply moving poem Joyce Worsfold tells of the power of music on a little girl. And if this doesn't make you feel better about the world, nothing will
In this poem David Bennett has a thoughtful look at the way we use adjectives.
by Violet Kendall
From One Season to Another
When brown earth swells,
Her pregnancy to show,
And over dark tree skeletons
Spring green mosses grow,
Then frost, more gentle and yielding
To the Sun,
Puts aside her mantle.
Another season done.
By Arthur Gilliland
Journalist Stan Solomons and his family suffered a series of mishaps at
their home for which they made insurance claims. "It was a remarkable
series of events," writes Stan.
Children were hopping and skipping with excitement as they were led on a
guided tour of Yorkshire‚s grandest country house.