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Read Poetry from A Message To You

Life Begins at 60 for Poet Lesley

On her sixtieth birthday Lesley Piper drew up a list of sixty wacky things she wanted to do. They included walking the length of Hadrian’s Wall, flying in a hot air balloon - and getting published.

It’s now two years later and Lesley, of Newark, Nottinghamshire, has done even better than she could have possibly imagined. Not only has she flown that flight and walked that walk - she has also won a national poetry competition.

“I only started writing poetry a year ago and I’ve had several poems published, but to win a national competition is a complete shock to me,” said Lesley (62) who works for the National Trust. Lesley has won the UK-wide contest run by United Press. She had to write a poem on the theme “A Message to You”.

“Lesley’s prizewinning poem Time For Tea is a touching verse about old age,” explained Peter Quinn, Managing Director of United Press and one of the competition judges.

“My mum Joyce White inspired the poem because she’s such an inspirational character,” explained Lesley. “She lives alone and has led an amazing life. I love to hear her stories about her childhood and that gave me the idea for this poem about nostalgia and memory.”

As well as the £100 first prize Lesley will have her poem published in a book and receive a free copy.

“I only started writing a year ago when I entered a United Press competition. I picked up an entry form at Cleethorpes Library and I asked myself - Why not have a go? Publication of the first poem I submitted gave me the confidence I needed and I’ve never looked back. United Press is largely responsible for my surprising new career as a writer.”

Lesley works for the National Trust at The Workhouse in Southwell which was the last operating workhouse in the country and was then used as a refuge for the homeless before it was turned into a visitors centre. She is retiring soon and wants to do volunteer work abroad. She has accomplished over forty of the sixty tasks she set herself on her sixtieth birthday - and has raised a lot of money for charity in the process. Lesley is married to David and has three children and three grandchildren. To find out more about free poetry competitions phone 0844 800 9177 or visit unitedpress.co.uk or send a poem to United Press, Admail 3735 London EC1B 1JB.

TIME FOR TEA

In mists of time her eyes looked out
Upon a scene so dimly lit
Of children playing in the street
And parents calling silently,
To find their errant families
And summon them in for tea.

Her memories now are all she has
As in the past she lives
Her parents, dead, for many a year
Are living still, for her alone to hear,
Their words so kind, it’s her they call,
And summon her in for tea.

Her life goes on in shrunken frame
As slowly now she moves
Just getting through is tough enough
And remembering what just moments ago
Cannot her thoughts improve

But soon her parents come again, and she listens to their call.
Her face lights up, their voices free, as they call her in for tea.

Lesley Piper

Below you can read excerpts of other work from poets published in A Message To You.

 

AT FAULT

Now I remember at fault I’m
Never tomorrow will be pleasing
Thoughts and bravery not cementing ways
I’ve always things gradually to see for necessities
Gradually all tilted with the slap of time
Crossing flowery life I entreated irony grime
When dried and spiky eyes with raising eyebrows
Began to pierce not sufficient kinds.
A piece of screeched torn paper came near to me blowing
I glanced it was motivating to take in hand and hug him
Why should I raise a torn to touch my feeling?
Next moment wind took it away blowing.
I puzzled comparing to this event; life also is like that in between
jerks of different position tend to twirl it, whirl it
Unknowingly in the irony culture to grind
To lose existence of it.
I may consummate pride with values
Prescribed by masters to the progenies
For future to save strewn philosophy
Actually, to remain at fault all time.

Deepak Chalise

Born in Nepal, Deepak Chalise has interests including reading, writing and singing. “I would describe my style as gentle and honest,” he explained. “Films and circles of friends influence my work, and my biggest fantasy is just to laugh and be merry.” Deepak is married to Geeta and they have three children.

MY FAIRY KINGS’ BEWITCHMENT

You force through my senses and poison my soul
The essence of power your curse
And despite my resistance, my reason and wisdom
You lift up my spirit, my longing gets worse

You tease my feelings and fuel my passion
The thrill of game play your skill
And despite my dependence, my love and my need
For my soul’s sake these feelings to kill

Kill off the emotions that reel through my mind
My dreams won’t come true, my hopes are in vain
And despite my compulsion when hearing your voice
To run to your arms, I must forever abstain

Silke Broadbent

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FLYING DUTCHMAN

Enigmatic shadow aglow
Drawing near in a timeless place
Boatswain warning voice I hear
Cries of featureless sight apace

A ship which never claims a shore
Enigmatic shadow aglow
Moonraker sensing death so close
Manifesting gloomy shadow

Mizzenmast apparition looms
What now seen is an unseen face
Enigmatic shadow aglow
Gliding nearer without a trace

God sail this ship away from here
For this phantom ship will borrow
In darkened skies beware you must
Enigmatic shadow aglow

Nicollette Foreman

DEAR MRS.B

The clock on the wall mocked her as the second hand moved around its face too fast
Where had the time gone

I know every sound. The sound the floor boards make, the sound of the morning paper hurled through the letter box, the same time every morning without fail
Except sunday

The sound of a dripping tap if you haven’t managed to turn it off completely and the sound of the clock ticking, usually ten minutes fast

Sometimes I catch you daydreaming as if the city just stands there staring
Sometimes I think you stare back

Kristi Harrison

BEAT OF MY HEART

The beat, your voice, the rhythm
Become mine and you enable me to
Be at one with life, the beat within me.
To know how alive I feel moving to your music.
Life-blood pulses through my veins
Feel as free as I can be, the dance goes on,
You and your songs into eternity.
Thank you for the inspiration, Michael,
The beat of my heart is you.

Susan Adams

MY PLEA

O’ Lamb of God, come to me,
Soothe my brow with your healing balm
In Your radiant presence may I be
Safe in Your arms, my soul in Your palm

Filled with the Holy Spirit
Love locked within my breast
Feeling secure, peace without limit
A tormented soul at last at rest

Hoping that a life of sin
Will be forgiven and purged
My salvation at last to win
A new-born Christian, pure; emerged

Our Saviour has answered my request
Deep in my soul is His reply
To pursue daily worship, follow my quest
Use His salvation, and all sin deny

That way leads to Zion, to that high place
Where love and devotion abound
Those that are faithful will enjoy His grace
And the music of adulation will resound

Fred Cutler

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AGAINST THE FLOW

Comfort words reveal kindness anew
Of happy times that frailties once knew
Message, somehow, somewhere, sometime, on high
When skeletal finger of time draws nigh
Prophecies to help the living was a must
Day the guardian angel sprinkled star dust
Poetry, food of the Gods, Bestowing immortal youth and gladness
Out from fathomless void of planet earth sadness
For St. George, England, and white robed peace
Of village green willow at the crease
Until gone away, to face what eternity may bring
What will the stone thrower do then, poor thing

David Maxwell

THREE CLERIHEWS

Said Samuel Pepys,
While all the town sleeps,
I’m still writing my journal.
‘Tis as well I’m nocturnal.

Guglielmo Marconi
Had fingers that were bony.
Nevertheless his efforts were tireless
To improve the wireless.

Samuel Morse
First devised his code in Norse.
He considered transmitting a series of flashes,
Before deciding on dots and dashes.

Ken Lovell

EMAIL WOES

I’d like to send a message
By Email to my friend
But every time I try to
I can’t get to the end
So why is that? You may well ask
(And can I make it rhyme?)
Computer, he says, Session’s o’er
You have run out of time
So then I have some choices
Now which one do I choose
Whichever one I’m pretty sure
My message I will lose
I click the mouse to save it
(Not sure completely where)
I look to see if it’s in drafts
But no, it isn’t there
Now I’m not sure I really want
To start this thing again
So what’s the safest option then?
My writing pad and pen

Valerie Burch

CELL

Your heart is a shadow of pain, never again to beat, heat a stranger
Too late I saw the danger, woman of desire, your love
Given free, watch the Salem fire singe your feet
Witch hunt driven you insane, lane of grief, leaves lick your
Stumbling feet, autumn fall of death
Guy Fawkes of a love affair, party time at your demise
Lover laughs at your midnight sighs of long ago
Rocketing sparks of meeting eyes, dampened by betrayal, lies
Lovers whispers change to bonfire smoke, evil thoughts poke in to your nightmare sleep
Trick or treat, the witches taunt, never treated, always cheated
Halloween and Guy Fawkes embrace in crazy dance
Shuffling through glowing embers, no one remembers you

Betty Fenton

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MOTHER NATURE

The sun has gone and the clouds are here, where else can I turn? I screech with fear, the thunder’s coming fast with a bolt of light fills the world with terror and fright, I stand here alone.

Where must I be?

I realise I’m in my own body.

Amanda Minchin

A TIME FOR PEACE

Let there be peace among us
For all the world to share
Not now or just tomorrow
But today and ever more

Let us call among the nations
Lay down your arms of war
And live as brothers and sisters
United unto one

Across the hills and valleys
Comes the echoes of tormented souls
From the battle scars of hatred
To poverty, Grief and famine

Let us see a new tomorrow
As grey skies turn to blue
With fresh green fields and meadows
And snow white doves of peace

Let there be peace for ever more
With love and harmony
And save the world from destruction
For our children and their young

Jim Carlin

THE DECLINE OF THE LARK AND THE SPARROW

Hark, hark the lark at heaven’s gate sings
A song we sang at school
Alas, if we don’t help complacency thus brings
Continuous torment creating a fool
Farmers were told to get rid of hedgerows
Cutting down holly and thorn
Our bibles say we reap whatever one sows
Create safe environments, happy the morn

Sparrow hawks, pesticides, to name but a few
There’s plenty of pigeons and gulls
Plant holly and hawthorn with lilacs at Kew
A safe haven, then storms lulls
When a mother teaches her fledglings to fly
Hearts pounding within their chest
Our feathered friends need help, if not why
Turning the clock back is my bequest

Jennifer Hudson

THE LETTER

Hesitantly, apprehensively I turn the key;
The wooden door protests creakily.
I step fearfully into the once familiar hall,
I start suddenly, confronted by a pale shadowy figure,
I smile, realising it is me in the cobwebbed mirror.
Slowly, up the stairs into her bedroom,
Eerily redolent with her presence even now.
Fingering tweeds, furs, satins,
Colourful cloaks of memory,
Wrapped around and within.
Someone breathing, whispering, calling,
My eyes search every empty corner.
A tiny scarlet slipper, abandoned upon a footstool,
Musty perfume on the dusty air,
A stray sunbeam piercing the gloom.
I leave the lavender envelope on the bed,
The last letter I wrote and never posted.
A ghost, a spirit, a presence,
Stirs faintly and cannot be at rest.
Is she here? Will she read and understand?
I leave quickly, not daring to look back.
Forgive me and sleep soundly, my love.

Arlene Allen

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A READY MEAL

Why do you always make me feel like a ready meal?
A store cupboard convenience, a useful commodity
Quick and easy to prepare
Remove cardboard wrapper, pierce film lid
Shove in the oven, then down the wine, relaxing in front of the TV
Not long to wait and then serve
No frills, no fuss, no thought, no care
A meal full of fats, over seasoned and tasteless
So much quicker - a ready meal

A want to be a cordon bleu experience
A chef’s delight, carefully chosen, a blend of tastes and colours, prepared with love
I want orgasmic flavours that excite the palate
Each mouthful bringing memorable pleasure
A meal to be lingered over, never hurried
So delicious that the heart cries out for more

Cathy Start

VAMPIRE’S TEAR

I felt the vampire’s lonely tear
As he drew near
His desire immense
Eyes intense

His hair as dark as a ravens wing
He comes closer
I know he’s coming

I feel his icy fingers pull me to him
He reaches in
A vampire’s kiss is the most passionate of kisses
I expose my neck he deliberately misses

It’s my warm lips he wants on his own
He draws in I gently moan
He holds me tight
In the darkest of night

No stars in the sky
All the light I see is the tear in his eye
Why does this man of night cry?
It’s not my blood or soul he wants
He simply wants I.

Ann Rowlinson

THE MEETING

Your text said meet me at half past three
At our special place beneath the tree
Texting back yes, I’ll be there
I’ve exciting news I want to share

Sit down, you said, I’ve something to say
A proposal, yes, yes, I’ll say yes straight away

My wife is pregnant, this is goodbye
I can’t believe this is true, it must be a lie

I look in your eyes, it is obviously true
I now realise, I never knew you
You are married, you never said
When you took me to your bed

I walk away, with head held high
Pride won’t let you see me cry
Nor will you ever see
This baby growing inside of me

Irene Stuart

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HELD

We want to be held until the hurt is gone
We’re certain whose shoulder we want to be crying on

We’ll be stubborn, we won’t let go
He’ll get up and leave you to cry alone

But when he does, you can say
With certainty in each breath
When he left that night
With all your strength, you put up a fight

Then, the end is nigh, he clearly wants to go
He’ll sigh and say those famous, hated words

If I mean anything to you ... If you ever loved me ...
If you still do ... you’ll let me leave

After those words are said
Between our tears and screams
We know we mean nothing any longer

We’ll chase the dream. We’ll want him back
We’re ready to fight to keep him in sight

Let him go, let him go
Watch him leave, watch him get lost

He never knew you; just knew everything about you

Emma Ginnelly

RECAPTURE YOUR PANTHER

Last night of childhood:
My panther runs out on me, and my wildwood
Its thick skin shrinks in a stream of knowledge
The wood, it seems, a freezing forest

The patch, where it chewed the land’s fat until fulfilled
Wasted to a no-man’s land of flytraps, masked as daffodils
The bed of roses, where it took cover during rainy days
Weathered to a wafer-thin laurel of daisy-chains

The tree-house, now a jungle-gym of snakes and adders
Wound-up and tied down to a post, hung on bottom rung of ladder
She feels the squeeze, as leeches bleed and leave her dry
hanging on every juicy word of nature’s grapevine

Inside, I feel her outcry, so I wander the wildwoods.
Sharpen mind, then follow in the footsteps of childhood
Lose track of time, wind up in the back of a mine, blinded by gold
There she lies, silvered by lining, enlightened by a bulb

Sooths her wounds in youth’s founta in, then shows me new tricks.
Walks a mile in my shoes down mountains,
Pulling me through mist.
To an old neck of wood, to reignite what burnt down.
To scratch the surface of my childhood,
So I can branch out.

Alec Hallam

NO SMOKE ALARMS

I came to you
With open arms
Round an open fire
With hope and charms
But all you did
Was open fire
And spoke of harms
You spoke of harms
So as the flames grew higher
We choked
On smoke and words
We couldn’t stroke palms
And then I lost you
No smoke alarms
No smoke alarms

Marco Berni

 

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