Writings and Witterings


Pity Of The City

Full Beaver Moon – 25 November 2015 (always in November) The time of year to set beaver traps before the big freeze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs. It’s suggested that the name Full Beaver Moon comes from the fact that the beavers are now actively preparing for winter. It is sometimes also referred to as the Frosty Moon or Hunter’s Moon.

worcester full moon by cathedral - worcesternews.co.uk

Full Moon beside Worcester Cathedral – photo acknowledgement to Worcester News worcesternews.co.uk

Pity Of The City

A dark tale for the baleful Beaver Moon,
the one that sky-lurks tonight:
face lours, eyes glower, glimmering
light emits from pits;
the pity of the city wraps
an evanescence of a smirk
in the murk,

They shirk light on earth;
shades of moonshine work to earn
noir histoire.
Tauntingly haunting crooks in alleys,
capes folded, in wait
for a stumbling gait,
imbibers of a jar
or two…

They wield needles, knives,
shiver and shrive
to priests of the dark;
leave their mark,
a fusty tang, taint of doom; bloodletters
think of mortality only as banality,
forgetting that death comes to all…
and it’s only a frostbitten





Polly Stretton © 2015


The Girl In The Chair And Her Protégé

She’d cupped a small bird in her hand,
born this year, feathers silky soft,
she encouraged flight, held it aloft,
so warm, so weak, it trembled.

She wheeled her chair along smooth garden ways,
a feather dropped, wafted soft.
The bird stayed in the hayloft.

Quietude, rest and warmth worked their magic,
the creature stilled, silently calm,
the scented hay seemed to act as a balm.

The gentle gauche girl returned the next day,
no drama, the bird had flown away.
The girl in the chair and her protégé.

Polly Robinson © 2015


Not Home

Before the face of all he owns
in front of times long gone
aeons of dark and dry bleached bone
behind a veil of song
all around beam rictus grins
while his expression’s stone
and rats gnaw through the black of bins
for all who are alone
he moves forward
in a flickering light
void voices on a phone
caution as his chest cleaves tight
shuffle here
shuffle there
shuffle home

Polly Robinson © 2015



Athenian red-figure lekythos, Museum of Art Rhode Island School of Design (http://www.theoi.com/Pontios/Iris.html)
You are a rainbow,
a golden winged messenger,
a dewey fresh faced goddess
refilling rain clouds
with water from the sea.

Speed of the wind,
with your man, Zephyrus,
by your side,
plunge into
the ocean deep,
underworld dark,
unhindered by the caduceus
staff in your left hand.

Sister to the harpies,
bring to Zeus the great oath of the gods.
Iris, with a ewer
of nectar.

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

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

Polly Robinson 2015


Spaced in Equality

Tonight at dVerse Poets, celebrating our fourth anniversary, Marina Sofia asks you to think of three words that mean a lot, and three words to describe things you are grateful for; my words are: Croome, curlicues, equality, and daughter, mother, language. Thank you, Marina, for the prompt :)

Here’s my poem:

Spaced in Equality

My mother would have been
singularly unimpressed
with the curlicues
in artwork at Croome
– spaced in equality –
that bit she’d approve,
the art, less so.
My daughter, ditto.
But to me,
to me,
they are the mother
and daughter of language.

Polly Robinson © 2015

With acknowledgement to https://www.pinterest.com/pin/84231455507316960

Island Pavilion, Croome, with acknowledgement to Jason Grimes of Atelier & Co via pinterest



I like to write to specific forms on occasion, even if they are traditional (I like a bit of tradition). Here is an Awdl Gywydd that I wrote in 2012 and published in my first collection of poetry entitled Girl’s Got Rhythm.

The Awdl Gywydd (owdl gow-widd) is a Celtic (Welsh) poetry form that complicates the end rhyme scheme by interlacing an internal rhyme throughout the poem on the second and fourth lines of each stanza. The end rhyme scheme is as follows: a,b,c,b… d,e,f,e, etc… however, the internal (cross-rhyme) can be placed in either the 3rd, 4th, or 5th, syllable position.

Raku bowls

Have a go at one…they’re interesting. Worth working at…


Crickle, crackle, raku glaze,
shattered craze of crafted pots,
bisque ware fired in burning kilns,
potters film, peel-off slip shocks.

Excitement lifts temperature,
glaze is sure to be red hot,
post fire unpredictable,
flames a miracle new pot.

Polly Robinson © 2012

Raku Fox

Raku Fox


Transient Sound

What’s that noise?
Overhead and to the right
a whirring, burring, buzzing –
you look for a whirligig


could it be a firework rocket?
In July?
At 7 o’clock in the morning?


have the aliens come
at last?


they’re as small
your ear.

Polly Robinson © 2015

First published in Girl’s Got Rhythm revised prior to posting