Everyday Poetry

My Writing Magazine this months suggested we write a rhyming poem about an occasion which had been badly affected by the weather. What else could I do but write about our wedding day,  the day the heavens opened and Gloucestershire flooded.  We'd planned all year to make it just right Not knowing the rain was just biding its time, To let loose its fury in the dark of the night And scupper those plans for a day quite sublime.  The limo turned up,  windscreen fan broken, Impossible to see as we set off in the rain We held hands in the back, few words were spoken As my sister wiped it clear, again and again.  To the Register Office we dashed dodging the puddles,  Our guests were already seated inside, So no photos were taken of the disheveled arrival Of the pale-faced groom and his dripping bride.  Then back to the pub where our breakfast was waiting Too wet to take photos in the garden as planned The rain had set in with no sign of abating We squashed in...

I spent the day with my grandchildren yesterday,  and some of it was spent writing poetry with Skylar.  We decided we make a great team - no room for modesty here! Here's my take on the process,  followed by our co-written poem on owls - 95% of which Skylar should get credit for.  Writing Poetry with Skylar She's just like me when words flow from brain to pen to spill across the page  in urgent haste. No thought, no planning where the poem is going, she just dives in, allows the words to take her to the next line, the next rhyme.  Only when she gets stuck do I suggest what might come next -  a description, an action, a different turn of phrase; she clutches at it, catches it, runs with it, spins it  into something of her own.  Mostly it comes unaided, straight from her eight year old heart.  ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved Owls as you settle down to bed sounds of owls come in your head soaring through the sky at ...

Another sad one I'm afraid.   The mourners stand aghast, worried He's making inappropriate remarks,  Except they not, it's just dark humour.  It's who he is, lightening the mood,  Brightening the room, should it fall flat. It's what she most loved about him.  Now she's gone, he jokes 'She's not visited me yet.' Except he's not joking; He really wishes she would. He's waiting every night For her ghost to come calling.  ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

I've been to two funerals recently. I suppose it's inevitable that their frequency will increase as I get older,  and my peer group ages alongside me.  It makes you consider your own mortality, and prompts a resolve to use the days left to you more wisely.  But somehow you never do, preferring to think there's still enough time left.   The death of an elderly uncle is easier to bear. It's possible to reflect on a long life, well lived,  To remember the fun you had when you were small, How he made you shriek until you were breathless,  To consider the grace of his faith, which eased his end.  The death of my sunny, fun-filled friend Is much harder to balance. We are all too aware She had too few years to enjoy her joyful take on life,  Will miss out on too many evenings full of laughter,  No longer guide her grandchildren into adulthood. Both deaths celebrated as a release from pain.  Both lives celebrated as lives lived well.  ...

Day 30: ' write a palinode – a poem in which you retract a view or sentiment expressed in an earlier poem. For example, you might pick a poem you drafted earlier in the month and write a poem that contradicts or troubles it. This could be an interesting way to start working on a series of related poems. Alternatively, you could play around with the idea of a palinode by writing a poem in which the speaker says something like “I take it back” or otherwise abandons a prior position within the single poem.' I can't quite believe we're on our last day of this challenge. It's been an amazing month,  during which I gained the confidence to arrange a contract with Amazon to publish a collection of my poems.  So far from taking a break,  I now have to knuckle down and do some work!  This last Napowrimo/ Glopowrimo poem contradicts the impression I gave of my husband in my list poem "Always too busy". You're never too busy to put aside Each Friday, to spend the...

Day 29: ' . Start by reading Alberto Rios’s poem “ Perfect for Any Occasion .” Now, write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal. At some point in the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person. Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue.' 1. A roast dinner takes More time and pans than usual,  A flurry of well orchestrated Peeling, chopping, par-boiling, Pre-heating, roasting,  Seasoning, basting, mixing. The gravy is always the finale After the table is laid.  2.  Plates loaded, food steaming, Seated round the table, We pause for a moment to admire Each tasty sight and smell of the feast. It shows off its gastronomic splendour Like a showman enticing us into the big top: Roll up, roll up, come enjoy the show! Each mouthful a spectacular delight! ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Day 28: ' write your own index poem. You could start with found language from an actual index, or you could invent an index, somewhat in the style of this poem by  Kell Connor .' I'm not at all inspired by this prompt! But here goes. I looked up Hazel and found subheadings coppice, fences, hedges, hurdles, nuts.  Hedge hazel So long the unspoken bane Between neighbours -  One set on coppicing,   On trimming to hedge height The straight as-a-dye branches, To fashion them into hurdles Patching gaps further along -  The other seeking their rise  Unimpeded,  Upwards and outwards Into the view; The tree stands oddly Half and half. On its still green and leafy side Birds perch, seeking food,  Nuts will fall in the autumn. On the coppiced side New shoots appear  Beside each stump,  Starting the cycle of regrowth Above new flowers emerging To unexpected sunlight: Primroses, wood anemone, Dog violets, bluebells, Exploiting this time to bloom...