Charnwood Grove organised and ran a number of creative writing sessions via zoom during the Covid lockdown 2 period, each session chose a specific subject and using some key inspirational words, the participants crafted these magnificent creations.
Session 2– Personification
Pidgification – Advice from the Pigeon
Humans, strut down your street, puff out the feathers on your chest.
Defend your nest. Coo, then coo some more. Be louder than the rest.
Shuffle. Ruffle feathers. Your own, another’s, whatever’s best.
Pigeons know this.
And when it’s launch time, be up and away, soaring your version of a large wide sky,
Gaming the currents of the air, make them work for you. That’s our advice.
Fly faster, fly harder, push ahead, show what you’re made of. Life is being watched
Humans know this.
We think you are too slow. You are creaky, like the branches of trees –
So get sleeker, take to the air. Hunker down when you’re done, fluff things out a bit.
It’s all about the feather and the grain. Pecking orders. Blinking through leaves.
Nature knows this.
Looking at Snow
Outside the snow falls steadily,
Whirling whiteness, wildly windborne,
Yet there is peace in your wake.
The earth is blanketed, cocooned and safe.
Behaviours change so speedily,
Nature nurtures, need is nourished.
Bird seed and fat fuel survival.
The snow is blind to them, does not perceive.
Viral, snow falls relentlessly.
We hide, we hunker, hopeful of help
Invading nook and cranny,
It paints every surface, perpetual white.
Beauty blossoms in its advance.
Blizzards perfect, powering progress.
Triggered and chivied, change happens.
Drift or awaken and consciously act.
Tree in Spring
I stand on cold hard ground
I tingle
buddingly
My bark thaws brown
Green moss comes over all
Bright green
Lichens bind my branches
Waving in spring winds
Stand on rock
Through heat through cold
Through ice through snow
Through hail through wind
Still but dancing
Tickle my end points
Penetrate push them
Gather up moistness
Suck damp earth
Fluttering wings
Feathered things
Nesting nestling
Soft and gaping
Sing from heights
From hidden depths
Then swoop and dive and call
Make garlands in the gloaming gloom
That fill the evenings all.
View from a Tree
How fleeting are these human bein’s,
Like leaves on the wind, no roots.
The colours of autumn, never greens,
And treading the Earth in boots.
How flimsy are their little limbs,
No pith to make them strong..
Their bark is smooth. They act on whims
And seldom stand still for long.
What do they see as they rush about?
How can they hope to ken
The ways of the world? Do they ever doubt
Their God-given rights as men.
Many thanks go to the membership of Charnwood Grove for allowing this content to be published.
All work remains the property of the original author. Charnwood Grove claims no rights.
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