Polly

Writings and Witterings


40 Comments

Morning Town Ride

This is the poem I submitted to dVerse for the anniversary celebrations and it was entered for the Nain Rouge contest.  Mark Durfee of Nain Rouge emailed some weeks later to say:

Your poem MORNING TOWN RIDE made the cut not only to be published in Vol 1 Issue 1 of Nain Rouge, it was also selected by a very qualified group of writers as 1 of the top 6.

I am delighted.

*****

It was grim on the tube this morning in London, so hot and humid, stinky – this came out of it …

English: Congestion on the London Underground

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

like a
toothpaste
tube of the
hunched up,
bunched up,
crunched up,
swilled and
SPIT at
station
drain.

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

oh oh,
get some
mouthwash,
don’t breathe
on me
please;
last night’s
garlic
was good,
last night.

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

finger phones;
manipulate
mobiles
for mails,
thumb apps,
angry birds,
twitter,
overheat,
a mass,
morass

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

of smells,
standing
room only,
read ‘Free
Metro’, or
‘Kindle’,
hang from
bars like
sensible
apes.

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

save
yourself!
bump,
lurch,
sway,
sway,
hear
wheels,
tracks,
screech.

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

iPod,
earbuds,
jiggle,
bleeding tracks,
fan face,
cool down,
heat up,
moist hot
heaps of
humanity …
ride on
morning
town ride.

chackety chack
chackety chack
chackety chack

Polly Stretton © 2012

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3 Comments

Beans For Tea

Scarlet Robin

I am a little robin
Sitting in a tree,
Mamma says I have to fly,
But I am scared, you see.

My L-plate is affixed
To feathers quivering proud,
Flying lessons start,
We gather quite a crowd.

The ground is such a long way down,
My wings are brown and small,
I tell Mamma that I am scared,
She doesn’t care at all!

Pappa says ‘Fly or else
I’ll shove you off that bough,’
My little body shivers,
‘But Pa,’ I say, ‘tell how?’

‘You’ll be all right, my pretty,
You have a go,’ says he,
‘You’ll fly easy – feathers, wings –
Just think, baked beans for tea.’

I’m launched by his ‘thwack’
My wings stretch gingerly,
I can’t help looking back,
I plummet, dangerously.

The L-plate spirals wildly,
I downward tumble and flap,
My eyes are spinning in my head,
And then I feel a tap.

‘Come on love,’ says Mamma,
‘Give those wings another try,
One – two, one – two, you can do it
Look upward to the sky.’

And then I am away,
Into the blue I soar,
The L-plates fall away from me,
All of their own accord.

My Pa is crowing loudly,
He is so proud of me,
He shouts out as I flutter by,
‘OK love!  Beans for tea.’

Polly Stretton © 2012