Poetry and Creative Writing for All

Sheila Gee

Anyway, I just started writing poetry a year ago. I am a late starter. I'm 50 now. I can't recall having written any other poetry before then although perhaps I was made to write one for a project in school. Now though, poetry has a hold on me and I find I'm writing poetry most days. I enjoy rhyming but I do try to occasionally write non-rhyming stuff.

I love Spike Milligan and Pam Ayres and I also enjoy Wendy Cope's work

Stupid Cat

It was just a cat
A stupid cat
Lying squashed out on the road

Just a cat
A dumb old cat
Never learnt the highway code

But she was mine
and it hurts
and it’s really quite absurd

how such a little cat
could make
your writing go all blurred

How such a silly cat
could claw her way
into your heart

and leave you feeling
lonely and that your
life’s been torn apart

but if she’s your one true friend
the others may
come and go

when that stupid cat
has gone
it’s a really massive blow.

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The Unexpected

It’s not like back home,
Where the drainpipes are straight,
Here they are angled,
It’s wonderful, it’s quaint.

Nothing too structured,
The rules tend to flex,
I like it, it’s richer,
When we unexpect.

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Safe Harbour 2

He had the pigeons
And the lofts took over
No grass, no room he said
And she capitulated
Walked to the park instead

Then we heard she’d gone
Sudden, unexpected
As death often is
Nice woman, much missed
And three lovely kids

And I caught him there
One Sunday, early dawn
Saying ‘Do you think she can see this?’
As he laid a small lawn

Cause she wanted a safe harbour
No grief at all
To sit and relax
While the kids were at school

And I nodded and assured him
Didn’t say ‘No, it’s too late’
Because who knows where we go
On our expiry date.

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Your Sister

It’s no good coming round, you’re cute, I’ll give you that
But when all is said and done, you aren’t the right cat
Your sister had a certain something, although she often was a pest
I couldn’t help myself, I’m afraid, I loved your sister best

Her habits were appalling, she’d stuff her face so quick
Because she ate so much, she’d often then be sick
She loved to play, she loved her string
She’d be investigating…….everything

Meanwhile you’d sit quietly, sitting on my husband’s knee
She had the verve, the joie de vivre, I think that’s what appealed to me
Making the bed became a trial, she’d be watching all the while
Sometimes I’d see her stalking face as she attacked a pillowcase

Now I’ve noticed that she’s gone,
You’re doing things she might have done
When I go to make the bed, you’re standing watching me instead
Selecting which sheet to attack, you seem to be a different cat

A change of nature’s taking place and sometimes when I see your face
….. It’s almost like she’s back with me, the playful curiosity
So I suppose I must admit, I love you really quite a bit

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