Happy National Poetry Day!
Monthly Archives: September 2017
Voices of 1919
Can’t wait to go along to this event and hear the poems performed by actors 😄
Celebrate National Poetry Day in Worcestershire.
Voices of 1919
Autumn in Malvern FestivalÂ
Elmslie House, 8 Avenue Road, Malvern, WR14 3AG
Tickets £8.00 available from Malvern TheatresÂ
The Box Office, Malvern Theatres, Grange Road, Malvern WR14 3HB – telephone 01684 892 277
http://www.malvern-theatres.co.uk/whats-on/voices-of-1919/
VOICES OF 1919
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The Great War is over. In the Spring of 1919 the village of Oakby awaits the return of survivors. Each household has its own story. Through the words of 20 contemporary poets, we hear the voices of villagers struggling to recall their past, to understand the present and to imagine the future.
The Armistice, signed on 11th November 1918, signalled the end of The Great War, but most involved in the fighting would not be returning for months.
This poetry is not about the trenches and battles but is, in the main, the thoughts of those who didn’t go to war –…
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Writing Opportunity for You!
Looks like a brilliant opportunity – checking my diary!
Join this poetry project for OCTOBER.
© Glen Bowman
Do you enjoy using visual stimuli as a starting point or the whole point? Ekphrastic poetry/ writing may be your thing.Â
This year I am organising a team of poets to join a project at Hanbury Hall. Annually the Droitwich Arts Network (DAN) work with the team at Hanbury Hall (National Trust) to offer local artists a space to exhibit and sell work in the Long Gallery.
In the past, poets have been invited to choose art to create a poem from. ‘Fragile Houses’ included two ekphrastic poems from this event in 2014. Other years have seen poets create videos, display poetry. The possibilities are endless.
Hanbury Hall Ekphrastic Poetry Project 2017Â
– FREE entry to the grounds/the Long Gallery,
– a wonderful gallery of local artwork (in many mediums) to appreciate,Â
– time and an inspiring venue to scribble notes/poems…
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Beyond The Veil
Handkerchiefs, white twisted prayer,
sobs breach and break the mourning air,
death takes, will not be second-guessed,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
The shelter with its angled roof
hears clattering of horses’ hooves,
covers the dear departed, blessed;
her shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
The bearers seated by the corpse
know flesh, bones, come to nothing, naught
to ponder, but in time accept,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
From lych to church seems overlong,
they pause, they pray, they chant their song,
to see her pass this way – none guessed
a shroud around the lych would rest.
A hot ague shook her life away,
the children sobbed, begged her to stay,
but death took life, it sucked her breath,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
Yet that was then and this is now,
time changes, untracked: marriage vow,
photo backdrop, bride with guests,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
Spectres, spirits of the passed,
plague actors in the wedding cast,
this shady place does it oppress
if shrouds beneath the lychgate rest?
‘Death is the only deathless one’,[1]
time lingers brief, they’ve just begun,
this is for life, no trial or test,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
Fading out the nuptial glitter,
shadows cast by bygone sitters,
carnation wilts upon his breast,
and shrouds beneath the lychgate rest.
The charm of years, a pretty place,
he gazes down on her sweet face,
craves togetherness, wedded, yes,
a shroud beneath the lychgate rests.
Polly Stretton © 2017

[1] John Payne (1842-1916)
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