Everyday Poetry

Conker This months writing magazine sets autumn as the theme of an exercise.  Choose an autumnal object and imagine you are that object.  Write from the perspective of "I am...", "I once...", and "I will...". I usually collect nuts, cones  and seeds from the garden at this time of year,  and bring them inside as a sort of natural autumnal pot pourri, keeping them on the window ledge until it's time to swap them for Christmas decorations.  Now,  I'm beginning to wonder if this is wise! I am a rich, deep chestnut brown Hiding a juicy white heart, Picked up from the kerbside, Teased from my prickly shell, Polished by smoothing fingers to a glossy shine, Chosen from the multitude of my companions To sit inside a pocket and travel to this place. I once grew fat on a branch High in the air,  overhanging the wall Looking out towards the world. Waiting for the sun to ripen me, The wind to loosen me, Gravity to set me free, all so I coul

The show For all those who have been given (or volunteered for) the job of organising a show.  There's always a last minute panic however organised you think you are. Don't worry about it Everyone knows what to do, It looks after itself. Despite the meeting (weeks ago) Despite lengthy,  explanatory emails Carefully crafted not to step on sensitive toes It seems that,  after all, There are a few things That don't look after themselves - The bunting, the donations sign A mallet for the marquee The precise arrangements for parking, Some have forgotten where they'll be, And who is bringing the milk? Several frantic phone calls,  emails later I'm resigned to leaving it to fate. It's a local village show in a front garden For us all to enjoy while raising money For this year's good cause, Not a gallery launch. What could possibly go wrong? © Copyright 2019. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved