Writings and Witterings



If you like pictures,
diagrams, charts,
cartoons, then you’re a ‘Visual’.
No, not a visionary,
a ‘Visual’ who says,

‘I see what you mean,’
‘I get the picture,’
and asks ‘What’s your view?’

It’s the way you like to communicate.
The way you might send messages.

‘Auditory’ defines those who prefer voices,
the radio, talking on the phone,
listening to silence,
asking for directions.
No, not voices in your head,
a listener, a story-teller, a poet.

You say ‘That rings a bell,’
‘I hear what you’re saying,’
‘It sounds OK to me.’

If you’re touchy-feely,
a hug ‘n kisser,
‘Kinesthetic’s’ the word.
You like a ‘hands on’ approach…
But no, the ‘Kinesthetic’s’ guided
by texture and touch.

You say ‘That feels right,’
‘How does this grab you?’
‘Let me try.’

Now…let’s figure out
how to send each one
a message.
The message
is ‘Peace.’

Polly Stretton © 2016


A Drama Of Messages

For the UK National Poetry Day 2016 – theme: Messages

A Drama Of Messages

The memoir of a plane in a blue streaked sky,
a hint of an octopus swirls in purple ink,
the downwind stink of a dirty dog fox
covers campfire embers puffing smoke signals,
while beacons burn at birthdays and jubilees,
barbeques cook to eat and enjoy;
burnt bits and gunky grease get gradually cleaned.
Messages: tasted, smelled, heard and seen.

Polly Stretton © 2016


A Quality Dilemma

Quality, quality, quality…
that’s what it’s all about,
you might think it boring,
until your work’s in doubt.

It’s not a cause of jollity
or any slight frivolity,
because in the world of quality
evidence is King.

Showing things done properly
is not a scholarly lottery,
it’s easy, easy-peasy,
so why’s it rarely done?

Polly Stretton © 2016


Hill Walk

The kit he’s got is sparse,
the hill walk is a farce,
he has no fleece,
no sturdy boots,
has not checked the weather,
doesn’t know the route,
we all walk together,
with the new recruits,
experienced walkers
guide the less astute.

And that woman,
Wendy, with pumps,
skinny T-shirt,
goosey goose bumps,
her with the bloke who has no map,
no SatNav, no wit, no mental sap,
she tries her phone
where no signal can reach,
clearly thinks she’s
on the beach.

I have walking boots, fleece and map,
my SatNav, Kendal Cake, haversack,
I’m equipped for whatever occurs
as we walk on up I overhear
him ask the walk leader,
‘How long will we be?’
‘cos his mum’s expecting
him back for tea,
and besides
Wendy’s feet are killing.
There’s reliance on those
who are willing
to carry them up the hill.

Polly Stretton © 2016


My Poems

Thought you’d like to know that my poems ‘Bittersweet,’ which made the short list, and ‘Farewell’ and ‘If You Didn’t Get This Message Call Me,’ selected as ‘Paragram Picks,’ will be included in the anthology later in the year. The theme was ‘Paradox’. See more info here: Paragram Poetry Prize. More details as they come through 🙂


Fifteen Minutes Of Fame

Let’s get on a reality show
and get ourselves embarrassed
by our shopping habits
or performing rabbits,
or the way we sing a note;
maybe how we choose to bake,
or even how we sew.

Could be more
than fifteen minutes,
I have to agree with the pedants…
the point’s the same,
in any game:
fifteen minutes
of so-called fame.

Polly Stretton © 2016