I'm looking at life through a letterbox.
It's safe behind closed doors:
No wasp to sting, no sudden shocks,
No threats, no debts, no broken laws.
No fears, no foes, no trampled toes,
No gossipers who mutter by,
But, look! – one lonely butterfly,
Still pretty with a wing that tore.
Poor thing. It has no letterbox.
Poor thing. It has no door.
What I'd like you to try is writing your own poem 'Through a ...' whatever it is you are looking through. It might be a letterbox, too. Or it might be through your fingers, through a telescope; binoculars - held back-to-front; a toilet roll; sunglasses; a glass tank (perhaps you are a goldfish?) Have a go!
by Celia Warren
Poem © Celia Warren 2011
lovely poem. Great idea. Am off to do one!
ReplyDeleteNice piece Celia and nice poem too. Here's an attempt at something along the lines you've suggested. It's probably nowhere near finished but...
ReplyDeleteForgotten Moments
I’m looking through a boxful
of mostly family photos
some now so old
I can no longer remember
where we were when they were taken
or, except for those obviously weddings
or christenings, or Christmas celebrations,
the nature of the special occasion.
And I’m thinking,
wouldn’t it be wonderful
if there was some way
to thaw and release the thoughts
frozen in those fleeting
happy instants.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful
to inhale the vapours
from the whisper-thin slices
of photographic emulsion
and be able to live those precious
but forgotten moments
with our loved ones once again?
Dear Celia,
ReplyDeleteI'm looking through my letterbox.
I've been crouching here for hours
So at least I can say I've tried.
The lights are on
But there's nobody home -
I think I might go back inside.
Love the poem Celia, I will be back when I've finished my story, due in Friday, brill idea I feel ahole in the wall comentary from a spider coming on. PS I moderated the latter of your two comments Phil as I think the first must have been when you tried first time. Shall I delete the other? Or do you want both x
ReplyDeleteWonderful to read your comments and poems. Isn't it great how the same springboard can produce such diverse moods and memories. I could relate to Phil's, and Trevor's made me laugh. I could just picture him peeping through his own letterbox from his doorstep! What fun. Looking forward to yours, Sue - sounds a great idea.
ReplyDeleteHere's one on this theme. You'll need to wait till the last line for it to all fall into place :)
ReplyDeleteCheers,
Richard Leach
What is the Moon?
They once said it was made of cheese
A silly notion, if you please.
“It’s made of rock and powdery dust,”
Say scientists we know and trust.
But now I’ve found they’ve made a mistake
It’s made of giant hills of cake
With chocolate clouds and a river too
Of what looks like a toffee goo.
And a giant creature is having a drink
From the toffee river, I’m on the brink
Of a major discovery for humankind
There’s life in space! A major find!
I run inside to tell my dad
How he has such a clever lad
But he just smiles and says, “You dope.”
Then cleans the lens of my telescope.
What is the Moon?
ReplyDeleteThey once said it was made of cheese
A silly notion, if you please.
“It’s made of rock and powdery dust,”
Say scientists we know and trust.
But now I’ve found they’ve made a mistake
It’s made of giant hills of cake
With chocolate clouds and a river too
Of what looks like a toffee goo.
And a giant creature is having a drink
From the toffee river, I’m on the brink
Of a major discovery for humankind
There’s life in space! A major find!
I run inside to tell my dad
How he has such a clever lad
But he just smiles and says, “You dope.”|
Then cleans the lens of my telescope
by Richard Leach :)