This piece also came from TCWG first online workshop, hosted by me, Ray Stearn, Chair of TCWG. The covid lockdown has meant that we look for other ways to meet and Zoom provided the opportunity here. This came from a ten minute exercise in a very short 40 minute workshop
In Spring there is life.
Summer this year
Was never under starter’s orders,
Damp, miserable wind and rain.
The trees were green
But rarely seen.
Colours of flowers helped
But Summer was a washout.
I love Autumn,
Season of mists and yellow fruitfulness,
Season of mellow crowdless cricket
Fell first ball.
I gaze out
From my window
Wondering where the year has gone,
Where it will go.
A brown dog gives a bark
Leaves its mark
We wait for the last season of the year
For in Winter there is death
© Ray Stearn 3rd September 2020
This beautiful piece from Robin came from TCWG first online workshop, hosted by Ray Stearn. The covid lockdown has meant that we look for other ways to meet and Zoom provided the opportunity here. This came from a ten minute exercise in a very short 40 minute workshop
Life in its fruitfulness spawns
Berries of all colours,
Fronting still green leaves.
Mellow winds strengthen and
Miserable rain begins to fall.
Autumn augurs death of summer as
Leaves turned brown flutter down,
Becoming damp mush.
Bark of tree branches becomes
Many of the local writing groups have suggested we all publish on our websites or social media sites new work on the subject of Isolation,
so here is our first one from me, Ray Stearn Chairman
All my fears bubble up
An enormous Irish Stew on the stove of anxiety
The holly bush pops into my mind like a potato surfacing through the broth
Will its roots grow through the foundations?
Then the wind increases, the potato holly dives
Slates take its place , quorn pieces in this veggie stew
Will they still be on the roof come morning
Another bubble from the stove
Carrots surface as the front door in my mind
Is it rotten or can I repaint it?
Bubble bubble stew and trouble
Is that new chair showing signs of woodworm
Say the turnips in my mind stew
There’s a virus to worry me too
So good they named it twice
Take my advice
Don’t think twice
Or hoard rice
Be very very nice
Or your swede I will dice
Irish Stew in the name of the law
© Ray Stearn 21st March 2020