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Showing posts from June, 2021

Driving home from poetry group

I belong to a really lovely poetry group which meets once a month to share poems on the theme agreed upon at the previous meeting.  This month was 'Family' a theme I've written many poems about, and yet although I took along two of my own that I'm proud of, I only shared one of them,  choosing instead to share three by published poets. Despite the group's support I still suffer from imposter syndrome!  Leaving the close-knit circle Of poetry loving friends,  Driving back home from Wotton Up the tight zigzags of the Edge, I swallow, yawn, Clearing my ears like a diver resurfacing.  Topping the hill, levelling off,  I mull over the choices I made this time, Which poems I chose to share,  Why my own are always amongst those Which fail to make the cut, Afraid they'll not stand up against the rest. Descending into Uley, Down the twists and turns of Lampern Hill, Towards the reassuring comfort of home, I vow to be braver, to trust in our friendship, To share my poems

Variety

It turns out: spices are the spice of life -  Tumeric, cumin, cinnamon, ginger Quietly easing our heart, our blood, Removing excess sugar, cholesterol, Nutmeg soothing our digestion,  Relieving pain, helping us sleep, Cayenne reducing appetite, burning fat, Sage improving brain function, memory - All while tingling our taste buds, twitching our nose, A medicine cabinet hidden in each humble spice rack.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

Wheels in the rain

The writing magazine competition is on the theme of the wheel.  I've tried to write about a time in the 70s using a form of poetry called the Terza rima, thinking its tight rhythm and rhyme structure would be like the turning of a wheel.  It's proved very difficult and it's definitely not competition standard - the formality of the structure doesn't sit well with its subject which needs a looser approach -   so I'm happy to publish it here as a first attempt.  Driving test newly passed, I take the wheel of my father's car To drive through sheets of rain in unfamiliar autumn night The only one amongst my friends brave enough to drive so far. With teenage bravado, recklessly I swallow down my fright, Grip the wheel,  tune out their excited chattering and refrain From joining in - eyes fixed on the car ahead's rear light.  Journey's end we pile out, soon wet through but too high to complain We run past big wheel, rollercoaster, wooden pier, to Southend'

Anglers Paradise

We've just come home after a week staying at Anglers Paradise,  a complex of villas set around a number of fishing lakes near Okehampton.  We've been before,  but not for many years, having transferred our affections to a villa with its own lake in France.  We booked Anglers Paradise last summer thinking it would be the sort of place we could go to even if covid wasn't back under control.  I'm so glad we did.  We've come to stay at Phil's happy place Where each new day puts a smile on his face An anglers paradise where he can fish All day every day if he should wish.  Each lake has a view of the Dartmoor hills To admire in quiet while he pits his skills Against the fish with hook, bait and pole "A fish a chuck" his stated goal.  He sits in the space between shrubs and reeds  Tossing in pellets as he constantly feeds Then primes his hook,  casts over the lake Playing each fish till its will starts to break.  He draws them to the bank,  not quite ready y