Committed writers dedicated to working together to produce excellent poems, short stories, drama, life writing, and creative non-fiction

Why not contact us for more details about our small, mutually supportive monthly meetings? Don't be shy. No need to be brave!

Sheila 01823 67 28 46

Valerie 01884 84 04 22

Thursday 31 July 2014

An Unexpected Blessing.

Four's just right, we'd said. You, me, two beautiful girls.

He tumbled in, ten years adrift, on a cold December day,
snow outside, stifling within, a screaming hullaballoo of a boy.

"My little brother," whispered Jo in awe.

"Happy Christmas baby," murmured Ali, as
together they lay the teddy beside him.
© Sheila Rogers
All rights reserved

Monday 14 July 2014

Unexpected Blessings

Walking in lamplight snow,                                      
my daughter's tiny hand
curls in my palm.

Working. Searching.
Shattered sleep.
Myopic attention
on apparent affection;
leaving fatigue,
pale with questions.

London day in sunlight,
my grand-daughter
trots beside me,
her small hand
wrapped in mine.

Sunlight catches a snow crystal
in the dark of night.

© Valerie Taylor
All rights reserved

Saturday 12 July 2014

Family Union

An unlikely gathering:
dad, step-dad, children, partners, me.

Clouds to horizon stretch,
sunshine reigns.

Picnic to delight
and share
in grassy cliff-top hollow.

Offshore dolphins
to spectators' joy.

Swifts wheel
on insect prey;
butterflies float.

Our unexpected blessings.

© Helen McIntosh
All rights reserved

As I take a moment

to look deeper
to see what’s really happening

- at shape,
line, texture,
balance, proportion,
the shadow and the substance -

I pause, looking away

- taking stock
paying relaxed attention -

when a metaphor ignites understanding:
I connect with it; it connects with me.

I am blessed:
an unearned, unmerited
moment of grace.

© Sophia Roberts
All rights reserved

To Be

Nothingness.  Ages pass.
Continents divide.  Dinosaurs come
and go.  Then,
through happenstance
or serendipity,
a fluke perhaps,
am here.  A sentient being.
Briefly mortal.
A minute part of life’s
churning whirligig,
feeling its pain and wonder.
I know not, only that
I am grateful for this
unexpected blessing.

© Gill Dunstan
All rights reserved