Writings and Witterings


Lithping Around The Myths


My assurances that no small children were hurt or otherwise affected in the making of this poem (!) The theme at 42 Worcester in January was ‘Around The Myths In Eighty Words’ – sometimes you have to go with what’s in your head…

I posted to dVerse OpenLinkNight, why not give it a go? I’m wondering whether the humour is trans-Atlantic — gong by previous comments it is — hope so :)

Lithping Around The Myths

There wath Myth Thmith
at Primary Thchool,
Myth Bigger
featured large;
Mythter Thampthon,
Head Teacher;
Mythith Allthop,
she took charge.

‘Thtop lithping,’ she admonished, ‘thpeak proper,
like wot I do’

‘Can’t help it, Mythith Allthop,
can’t twitht my tongue
like you.’

I want to thay my etheth.
When will my tongue
be free?
How do you
thay your etheth?
It’th a mythtery to me.

Polly Stretton © 2016

It was tricky to get my tongue around the ‘th’s’ to record, but here it is!

Featured Image -- 12228

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LOTS! to bid for

This will be a goodie!


More on the fabulous fund-raising auction ConFab are hosting for People In Motion, supporting refugees in Dunkirk: West Malvern Village Hall, 8.30pm Friday 5 Feb.

Come to the party and bid on the night in cash (+ donations of warm clothing, footwear, sleeping bags, toiletries etc welcome!) OR you can bid by emailing amyrainbow@talktalk.net until WEDNESDAY 3 Feb, 7pm.

The generously donated lots include workshops or tuition in juggling, sewing, piano, cooking, aerial silk, writing, flute and even archery. Beautiful silver, gold or pewter jewellery and children’s clothing has been hand-crafted for the event. There are vouchers for spa, pamper and other sessions including a vintage vinyl disco session, baby sitting, home-made baking and much, much, more.

There will be songs sung and poems written to order on the night.

Here’s a list of the lots so far (in no particular order) with pictures of just a few:


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KB asked for a persona poem at dVerse Poetics.
Athenian red-figure lekythos, Museum of Art Rhode Island School of Design (http://www.theoi.com/Pontios/Iris.html)
I am a rainbow,
a golden winged messenger,
they say I am dewey, fresh faced,
refilling rain clouds
with water from the sea.

I spend the speed of the wind
with my man, Zephyrus,
by my side.
I plunge into
the ocean deep,
underworld dark,
unhindered by the caduceus
staff, hard in my left hand.

My Harpy sister
brings to Zeus the great oath of the gods.
I am Iris, with a ewer
of nectar.

Swift footed,
sure, like a storm,
I see my sister’s wings
on Achilles’ heels.

They call me a delicate herald of light
in my gossamer gown:
ruby red;
orange organza;
yardbird yellow;
green parakeet;
blue sky blue;
divisive indigo;
virtuous violet,
the realm of the rainbow is mine
always beyond reach.

Polly Stretton 2016


Fantastic Realism

Kieran drew out my prompt at Worcester Writers’ Circle and has written this splendid poem about the de Barros image.


Picture by Andre Martin de Barros

Poem prompt from Polly, http://journalread.com/

Andre Martin de Barros

Fantastic Realism

The glance of the lance,

drawing the eye to the lie

as it draws blood

by chance, a flood of art,

infested by those contested,

yet able

to play

at my empty table.

Unstable, the knight errant,

A deterrent

for would be kings,

mere inklings,

sheer inklings,

dear inklings.

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Do you see them peeping?
Do you see them creeping?
They’re beneath the blades of green
where the bluebells will be seen.
They’re making for the coracle,
see it in the distance?
And they’ll take it through the mist
to the river just beyond.
They’ll travel up the river,
mothers will get shivers
and children heebie-jeebies
looking for the fae.
It’s known they’ll be here soon,
for it is the time of year
when the fae enjoy the festival,
the festival of fear.

Polly Stretton © 2016


Tight Bouquet

tight bouquet
opens and fades.

The winter roses,
once perfect red
almost orbs,
crinkle with small black daubs.

lines craze from creases,
daubs join in the blot
of restless rot.

Even yesterday,
the bouquet
was not as tight
as we thought.

Polly Stretton © 2016


Under the Cloak of Winter

It’s Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub and Abhra’s at the bar. This poem was in response to my friend Kieran’s (kdavisfanclub.wordpress.com) challenge to write about the photo.

Under the Cloak of Winter

From Kieran

Photo by Damien Davis

They dance through the woods,
beneath elegant trees,
pause at mounds of moss
until the coracle’s in view.

Not yet in the water,
the boat:
the boat is waiting
for them to take a seat
on animal skin.

Mist miracles wrap
and rise,
still, still, still.
Peace settles;

no birds, no flowers,
nothing moves.

Silence stirs
and the trees,
stately sentinels,
to the promise
rising in the haze.

Polly Stretton © 2016