GIRL-CHILD

You didn't even notice
The red and blotchy eyes
The lashes wet and crumpled
The heavy heaving sighs

They were all laughing
At this poor bedraggled thing
This small and simple girl-child
As the tears began to sting

Before she even got here
Before this came to pass
The hurt and fear began inside
This lonely little lass

I could make you come and listen
To this tragic tale of woe
I could make you sit and comfort
But I really have to go

Immediately after
She stands alone and sad
A friendless little bundle
The world can treat so bad

So tell them how it feels to be
Alone against the rest
A lonely little girl-child
Who can never be the best

Alison Cleaver

A JOKE TOO FAR

King Bush and a date with death
Bart hooks and a flower bloom
Paparazzi and a camera zoom
Battered and bruised, a shrivelled prune Gaining ground with every breath

Always this sacred path
Shot gun no wedding bells
A tornado and a tree fell
That moment where two and one gel
Waiting to happen and a protest smash

Born as one, a two and a three
Legal and an illegal thought
I just can't be bought
A heart and a crumbling fort
This fulfilment and the future me

A birthright and a heart boom, boom, boom
A September fall and a gulf war rise
How can these people despise
From the ashes rise
A sunshine and an impending gloom

King and Queen and a lover sing
Adorations as the beast sleeps
An inheritance for the meek
Everything a future bleak
Resting place, a hospital wing

Jason Hiscock

Old Lady

The old lady was sleeping on her sofa.

The old lady was sleeping on her sofa at home wrapped up in her cardigan and a dress.

The old lady was sleeping on her sofa at home dreaming about times long since passed,
wrapped up in her cardigan with a flowery dress over the top.

The old lady with thin hair and deep wrinkles was sleeping on her sofa at home
dreaming about times long since passed and a lover she had one spring when she was twenty. She was wrapped up in her cardigan with a flowery dress over the top.

The old lady with thin hair and deep wrinkles which made you realise the amount of experiences she had over her lifetime was sleeping on her sofa at home dreaming about times long since passed and a lover she had one spring when she was twenty and still excited about the world. She was wrapped up in her red cardigan with her favourite flowery dress over the top.

The old lady with thin hair and deep wrinkles which made you realise the amount of experiences she had over her lifetime was sleeping on her sofa at home dreaming about times long since passed and a lover she had one spring when she was twenty and still excited about the world. She was wrapped up in her red cardigan with her favourite flowery dress over the top that reminds her of flowers they had laid in talking for hours about nothing at all.

Laura

The Death of a Tree

A crash of thunder, a streak of light,
Split this tree one stormy night.
Bark wet through, the branches shiver, Slowly decaying, trunk aquiver.

This tree was once a thing of grace,
Now it looks so out of place.
Dead and now going rotten,
Soon, no doubt, to be forgotten.

Ron Haimes

What I Know

I know I am part Rom
I know I am part Kelt
I know I am part Viking
I know I am a mongrel

I am international
I know people of four world corners
I know intense interest seeing these
I know I can be blunt and not always try to please

I know I am sometimes a selfish coward
And sometimes a selfless hero,
Moods and characters change
Like a flickering chiaroscuro

I know I can be strong in crisis
And weak as a kitten in delayed shocks after
I know that in the end I cannot read myself.
Frank Duncan
Pontefract Group

Storm in a teacup

The doorbell rings and I am half way there

Just enough time to wash my hair

But before that I feel like nothing else

The religion I am following won't allow me my drink,

They say it is harmful So put it down the sink!

I often scald my cups with boiling water

One for me one for my granddaughter

but to me what happens when filling the kettle,

Letting it boil then letting it settle.

Could it be that my folded-up teabag and the sugar

Are waiting for the milk and hot water

All swim around nicely

It warms you and wakes you from your sleep

Unfortunately, tea can be deep.

Take a break.

Carole

Kite

I am the kite
on the end of your string
flowing in the wind,

I appear free at first
but really I'm not,
you make me do
whatever you want,
any trick
you feel like.

I'm not free
I'm attached to you .

One day
I will break free,
go flying like the birds I see, wherever the wind takes me.
No controlling me anymore
all strings gone.

I'll probably end up
caught in a tree.

Laura

Hands

These are the hands
that have kept me
safe from harm;

catching me
when I fall,
pushing away evil,

held and comforted
when all else
was bad.

They are simple hands,
no polish or rings,
but clean.

Yet I am ashamed
of these hands
with their white scar lines,

yes, they have saved me
but couldn't save themselves
when faced with me,

deep white lines,
almost glowing.
I wonder if others see

the guilt
etched into my skin.
I wonder

if they recognise it.
Saving me
but in turn betrayed,

my hands a mirror
of all the good and bad
in my world.

Laura

I have to tell you

I have to tell you this and tell you now.
Tell you about my death and tell you how.

Standing in the pavilion under glittering stars, Drinking fizzy pop, friends pointing out Mars.

The flavour was funny, it wasn't quite right,
Then I dropped dead and headed for the light.

The drink was poisoned, that bit was clear.
But why from friends that I'd held so dear?

Laura

My radio is next to my kettle and waterfall My little spot where I think of it all
A cup of tea means more to me than anything else
Better than alcohol or coffee for me.

Carole

A Chair

A chair is not a chair
when there's no-one sitting there,
and a house is not a home
when there's no-one living there,
and this could be the home of a caterpillar
until it gets its wings.

Carole

The Falconer

The candle lit up the falconer's shack,
giving light from front to back.
His jess which hangs from the door
was now lying on the floor.
Looking at where it was tossed
he sat weeping for souls he had lost.
missing his child and beloved wife
wishing they were still alive.
Why they died to him wasn't clear,
They only had a cough, he said, wiping a tear.
He still sees them, lying in the carriage,
the one used for his marriage,
he sees her beauty covered and veiled, cursing quacks, for once more their medicines failed.
Now awaiting the following daylight, praying to his Lord to end his plight.

Desmond

Seasons - Rhyme and Reason

Golden leaves fall to the ground,
Laying a thick carpet all around.
Where owls and mice play hide and seek,
The only sound is boughs that creak.

Where blackbirds and robins dip and dive,
Frighten up insects to survive.
The cruel winter that lies ahead,
Those that falter are good as dead.

Where animals fall fast asleep,
Curled up in their lairs, dug down deep. Quiet now, all is still.

The Hunter

It was dark as the hunter sat by the fire, listening to a lone wolf as it howls.

Among the trees he saw three lights of red, gold and green. What's that I see, am I having a dream? The hunter rose to see what he saw, to see the lights merge into a figure, that of a boar.

What is this magic I see before me, is it evil set to harm me, or is it sent from god to have for my tea? The boar ran through the wood with the hunter close behind wanting to spill its blood. The hunter came to two crossing road where three figures were dressed in dark robes. Excuse me, have you seen a boar is this way it did come? The first did reply, Aye, sir, past us it did run.

For where is it now? the hunter did ask. Vanished, replied the second from under his mask. With fright the hunter became tense, as from this he could make no sense. Dear sir, the third said mumbling, strike thrice this gong when your tummy is rumbling.The hunter took the gong from him who spoke third only to see all three transform into a bird. On the gong something was scrolled, it read:
We are the guardians of this woodland,
No more wild life must be slain by your hand!
Now strike this gong to see creatures a-plenty,
Or for ever more your pantry shall be empty!

Estelle - Mirfield Sessions