Read Poetry From Taking Flight...
UNTITLED 5
Each petal seems to smile
like happy faces,
as they chatter without a voice,
but with cold raindrops,
And swell the memories
of the day.
Without a troubled thought
in the sunlight that sweetens them,.
birds sing and nest eggs hatch
from blue patterned shell.
Except for wintertime’s
robin.
The bluebird, mistle thrush sings as well.
Rachel Van Den Bergen
Return to the top of the page
MAX
(MY DOG)
The fun bundle of joy,
With no favourite toy.
The one who can take a whack,
Similar to a smack.
Sitting innocently, staring with his big brown eyes,
Like he never cries.
Waiting for all the attention to set on him,
When he never has a sin.
Chasing his tail,
Fast as a ship sets sail.
Annoying as a little cousin,
But I love him.
Megan Greer
Born in Aylesbury, Megan Greer has interests including horse riding and having fun. “Special people and things close to me influence my work,” she said. “I would describe my style as unique and all me.” Megan’s ambition is to be a successful scientist, and her biggest fantasy is to sky-dive with her friend Bobbi. “I’d love to meet Lady Gaga to find out where her inspiration comes from,” she said.
Return to the top of the page
CRADLE OF LOVE
Me neighbour, causes labour
To the men in black, with their funny hats
They have a passion for trash, a fashion for cash
Nicked for their past - misdemeanours, couldn’t be keener
Checkin’ car handles and breedin’ vandals
Garden like a garage, pregnant before marriage
Generations before, taught them the score
Dogs getting beat, sister’s reading Heat
Facin’ defeat - from within, you’ll pay for your sins
Gatherin’ mates and breedin’ hate
Wasn’t happy with that, tasted the crack, there’s no goin’ back
On a cycle of pain, with nowt to gain
No dad to see the sad black eyes
Filled with tears and adolescent fears, the growing years
A mother’s son who fired the gun
Without love or devotion, followed his emotions
Seen the light, there’s no need to fight
The preparation of a new creation - that welcomes you
It’s a long way down, you were lost now found
Now high above, in a cradle of love
Mark Burns
Born in North Shields, Mark Burns has interests including music, films, and writing poetry. “I began writing poems three years ago,” he said. “John Cooper Clarke influences my work, and I tend to write about social situations.” Mark, a driver and father of three, also writes short stories. “My ambition is to be recognised as a talented writer,” he said.
Return to the top of the page
THE NIGHT
My mind wanders off again into the twilight of the moonlight,
Its enchanting glow like crisp white snow,
The stars fill the sky and say goodbye to the remainder of today’s light and accept night.
Gliding past my window, birds hum and flap, one, two, three until the last.
The wind starts to howl like an invisible owl.
It crashes into my window, loud and wild,
Almost like an over-excited child.
Soon morning will come and the night will be undone.
Craig Hastie
Born in Stranraer, Craig Hastie started writing when he was 15 years old. “I started writing because I felt I could express myself better in poetry and prose,” he said. “My family, and reading other people’s writing, influence my work.” Craig has written over 40 poems and short stories, but this is his first publishing success. “I’d love to have more of my work published,” he said.
Return to the top of the page
THE BEEHIVE
In I go all excited my heart a-glow, printed T-shirts and caps,
menus for their laps
Buzzing around like a general bee, loving it all, that was me
Bees came from far and near, cups of tea, bacon butties and a
sympathetic ear
Loved them all, young and old and those stories I was told
This beehive was busy as a bee, but no honey did I see
I was told there was plenty but this hive was all empty
Seven days a week tired, stressed, trying to make ends meet
Struggling I kept on going ‘til the signs started showing
Oh those bees wanted to stay with their honey
I needed a swarm of bees to make some money
For this was never a hive, it was all a disguise
This was blood to me stung from the queen bee
Yes, queen was stung too, I flew past out of the blue.
Lorraine Chantell Williams
Return to the top of the page
YOUR DAY TO REST
This is now your day Paps, when you’ll be laid to rest
I always did believe the phrase God only takes the best
Now I know it’s true, as he has taken you
Now you will be safe and warm,
This is your calm after the storm
Up above with the others you love
Healthy and happy both you can now be
Forever in heaven looking down on me
Stay nearby and wait for me and the rest of the family
Together as one again, we’ll someday be, all of us, our family tree
Richelle Bradford
Return to the top of the page
CHILDHOOD
We ran through endless fields without a care in the world
And marvelled at springtime flowers as their petals unfurled.
We made small paper boats and raced them down the rolling stream
And laughed at the scarecrow and the odd angle he leaned.
We fed the horses in the fields apples and grass
And climbed any big tree that we just so happened to pass.
We always ignored the calls of, Come and get your dinner,
For our childish games of tag needed a winner.
We would visit the seaside and eat too much ice cream
And promise that life would always be this idyllic dream.
But suddenly, we grew up and life became serious
And things like boys and school made us delirious.
These memories will stay with me for a lifetime though,
Regardless of the people I meet or the places I go.
Jasmin Jackson
Return to the top of the page
CHASE YOUR DREAMS
Chase your dreams and catch them.
No time to plan.
No time to scheme.
No time to weigh it up.
No way you should do without.
No time to doubt.
Jump, thump, race up to it.
Fast as you like,
Fast as you can.
Just have fun.
Make it happen.
Make it work out.
Make it real.
Chase your dreams and catch them.
Amanda Willan
Return to the top of the page
CONTRASTS
The rushed school dash in morning
The hurried commuter rat-run rush
Both frantic weekday necessities
Sunny weekends especially
Our dear old village street
Echoes to a more gentle pace
People in animated voice, bringing vitality and vital custom
To our essential post office
Home grown butchers, several pubs, delightful art gallery
New vintage fusion shop, ideal for gifts and unexpected gems
Cricket and sports on the Minnis Green
Frequently to be seen
An inspirational heritage centre, along past the local school
To the amazing new charter hall
The latter, a mammoth community enterprise
All lively spots for meeting friends old and new
This living village is definitely alive and well
Due to caring people, especially
Our country loving butcher and post office team
Ensuring that Smarden isn’t lost in a faded dream
Margaret Ann Wheatley
Return to the top of the page
THROUGH THE WILDERNESS
The world is suddenly smaller,
narrow in diversity.
It is the imagination that lends
excitement and meaning beyond
intention, which we borrow
or take from one another.
Suddenly in the covering of an eye,
we are aware of what surrounds us
and for this we are strangely called
to find focus and concentration again.
Regular shapes and sounds that
will not be moved aside or grieve
for attention or care. Bought once
and there to stand the wear and tear
of our puny lives like
the solidarity to comrades emerging
from their darkness.
So we are led, if led we will be,
to see dimly and feel strongly
the one who paid for all our
wanderings, and it is as if we are
home, where we belong.
Ann McNair
Return to the top of the page
RAIN ARE TEARS OF HEAVEN
It’s happening to our world.
We see it on land and sea
And in the people of the world.
Animals are feeling it too.
Are we guilty? We don’t know.
Will it come? We hope not.
Sun and stars are still there
The world, the ball we are living on
Is still spinning.
Will it end like Mars?
Who will know the end?
People of the world,
Try and do what’s right.
Love each other, it’s not so bad.
Seek out truth, you know it’s right
Let the world keep spinning.
It’s not such a bad place.
The world is crying
It’s raining tears of heaven.
It can’t take no more.
Lets have solar windmills. Solar power
They are safe, lets get together
Go green.
Mary Gore
Return to the top of the page
A PRAYER
Dear Lord in heaven above,
Help all sick and suffering people with your love.
All those who have lost their way,
Help them to survive another day.
Please help those who are in distress,
Give them your comfort and your rest.
Please give us faith to carry on,
When everything we have is lost and gone.
Helping us to see our lives through,
Please be with us in all that we do.
God bless those who feel alone,
Give them strength always and bring them home
To your loving arms in heaven above,
Surrounded always with your love.
Enid Skelton
Return to the top of the page
UNTITLED
The mystery of it all, to fall in love again, where to find the strength to call him on the phone
Being alone in the night with erotic dreams, seems futile.
Being with someone even worse.
Just being is a curse. Worst of all, my erotic dreams last through the day,
Spurring me on to need him more, sowing the seed of a mayerling love affair as rare
As Hayley’s Comet,
Winging its forces through my very soul.
Flinging us in to a void of no return.
Who wants to, anyway?
Betty Fenton
Return to the top of the page
LIFE
Grateful for everything we have in our lives,
Each day be happy, simply to be alive.
Mastering your thoughts, turning them around,
Going out in nature, a stillness is found.
Beauty surrounds us, we just have to look,
Stopping and admiring a babbling brook.
So pleased I am, to have opened my mind
To read and learn of the ways of mankind.
Live life simply, respectful and true,
Showing compassion, helping others through.
Darkness comes at times to us all,
Having faith in life, brings us back from a fall.
Important to love, everything around,
From family and friends to the creatures abound.
Life is for living, wake up every day.
Making the most of each moment, keeping unhappiness at bay.
Anne Maiden
Return to the top of the page
MIRROR, MIRROR
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Am I short, am I tall?
Am I ugly, am I fat?
Is my nose squashed and flat?
Mirror, you distort my image ‘til I can’t see,
The pretty girl inside of me.
Illeyana Nichols
Return to the top of the page