Poetry and Creative Writing for All

Lindsey Priest

I was given a diary at the beginning of 2006 and wondered how I would fill each page. With a poem was my bright idea. Therefore, I started to write a poem every day. I found that I could usually join in any discussion by declaring 'I've got a poem about that!' I have written about school life (I'm a Primary Schoool teacher), about my family and family tree, the weather, pets, retirements, dinner parties, love affairs, money, buying a car, holidays, in fact, almost everything. I intended to stop writing at the end of the year (to take up slimming) but I have found that I can do both!

Statistically, I am fifty two years old, have been married for thirty one years and have two lovely daughters. I have taught for thirty years and have had Parkinsons Disease for twelve years. I wish time didn't go so fast.

RID THE WORLD OF CHOCOLATE

Chocolate is repulsive!
It is absolutely yuk!
Nothing to recommend it,

Not taste, nor smell, nor look.

It melts in sticky rivers,

Brown slime over your hand,

To rid the world of chocolate,

I think I’ll make my stand.

 It’s made me what I am today,

Round and a little plump,

So I am looking for a place somewhere

Where I can safely dump,

All the chocolate left over

From Santa’s bulging sack,

Extra pounds round my waistline

I’m beginning to attack.

Seven have gone already,

My clothes I can fit in,

Chocolate was the demon,

I repent my life of sin.

So I now bow to Lord Carrot

And welcome Lady Fruit,

I’m happy in their kingdom

Eating all the things that suit.

My chocolate can be stolen,

Or I’ll give it you with pleasure,

And I will have a figure that

I’m not afraid to measure!

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Don't Let Him Know

A sad day, a bad day,
A wish I’d never had day.
A  wild child, a defiled child,
A no way meek and mild child.
So tears flow and cheeks glow,
Wonder does that child know
The hurt he caused
Today? 
A grey sky, no play sky,
We must stay in today sky.
A bored boy, an ignored boy,
To behave must be implored boy.
So tempers rise, to bursting size,
Wonder does that boy know
The distress he caused
Today?
A new morn, feel blue morn,
A what will we do morn?
Forget that, don’t let that
Bad day spoil the things that,
Fill you up inside with happiness and pride.
No don’t let that little boy know
The pain he caused 
Today.

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Scarlet Nightdress

Who owns the scarlet nightgown
That lies beneath the bed?
A shiny, silky nightie,
In the brightest shade of red.

We found it quite by accident,
In the room of our hotel,
Not only a scarlet nightie,
But a pair of socks as well!

Who would leave such things behind
In a smart hotel bedroom?
And why were they not found before
Swept out with a cleaner's broom?

How did they come to be there?
The theories now abound,
About the owners of the garments,
And how the clothes came to be found!

Who were these mysterious people?
Were they young or were they old?
Did they miss their forgotten nightclothes
But dare not be so bold
As to try their best to retrieve them
By any means they choose?
Or are they just as happy,
The garments now to lose?

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Sign of Snow

As far as the eye could see

Fields were covered with snow.

Freshly fallen snow.

Soft as feathers, soft and silent.

No sign that any creature had passed that way.

No sign of life.

Still, silent and so peaceful.

So peaceful.

Branches laden with their heavy burden stood  proud.

Proud of their strength and beauty.

Suddenly an owl swooped across the scene,

Swooped  and settled amongst the branches,

Showering the ground below

With a million icy crystals.

THE CATALYST!

At once

The scene was alive,

Alive with wakenings.

Shrouded sun peeped over a distant hill.

A rosy glow crept furtively

Advancing over the landscape.

Advancing and artistically

Softening the stark, starched whiteness of the snow.

A splash of yellow as a bobble-hatted youngster

Reached the brow,

Closely followed by his companions.

With a shriek and a cry uttered in unison,

Sledges of all shapes and sizes appeared,

Colourful scarves like flags, flapped over the fields.

As far as the eye could see.

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The Leaf Turned

What is beneath the leaf?
Turn it over
Does it surprise,
amaze and fill you
With warm thoughts
Baked by the
Autumn sun?
Can you interpret
Each vein,
Stretching fingers
Of opportunity
Towards a greater
Goal?
Are you filled
With determination
To adapt,
Camouflaged and protected
No matter
How difficult
Or impossible?
Is it what
You want?
Or do you
See it
Creased
Filthy and worthless
And trample
It
Deeper
Into
The
Mud?

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FIRST SONNET

If you belonged to me and I to you,
Two hearts would beat in perfect harmony.
Soft whispers, sweet emotions ever true,
On wings of love, the finest filigree.
Rude earth could not repel the glowing sun,
Nor hinder comets curving through the sky.
Entwined now and forever, just as one,
Caressing gently, may together lie.
As the stormy waves crash upon the shore,
And darkening of day extends to night,
Tender thoughts unexpressed, let truth explore,
And fears to be forgotten, will take flight.
As the dawn breaks to herald early morn,
So strings bound with such strength, can not be torn.

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Submission Guidelines: Poems of no more than 30 lines in length each will be considered.