What do you do?

Today, I’ve got more a a silly poem for you. We all know the feeling of getting this lightbulb moment, often in the middle of the night, then you get up and try to write it all down and – hey presto, it’s all gone, like a dream. Is it just me, or does creativityContinue reading “What do you do?”

Going down, by Britta Benson

Today I was working in Whithorn in Dumfries & Galloway, a site of archaeological importance. Pretty much all of Scotland is of archaeological importance. As I watched the children play on the historic site, I was thinking of all the stones and bones lying underneath. I observed a chicken, completely unimpressed by the importance ofContinue reading “Going down, by Britta Benson”

The Passenger, by Britta Benson

You probably know the strange feeling, when you’re a passenger in a car on a long, long journey, and you simply stare out of the window, watching the world fly by, drifting in and out of thoughts, wondering about the weirdest things. This is where my poem starts. The passenger Seatbelted, A3 map on lap,Continue reading “The Passenger, by Britta Benson”

The dreamcatcher, by Britta Benson

The following poem started off as a complete slash your wrist type of thing and I was literally gutted by the end of writing it. I looked at my words and thought, no, this is not what I wanted to write. How did it happen? How did I end up on a downhill spiral? SoContinue reading “The dreamcatcher, by Britta Benson”

The thunder that never came, by Britta Benson

For days, warnings had been issued. Thunderstorms would wreck havoc, cause floods and Armageddon. We waited. We prepared. Nothing happened, there wasn’t even the hint of drizzle or the beginning of a breeze – which was of course fortunate. It felt weird, though, being all prepared for the end of the world, and then… then…Continue reading “The thunder that never came, by Britta Benson”

I, Rain, by Britta Benson

I had plans for today, outdoor plans, but the weather had different ideas for this Tuesday. So I’m stuck inside with a bit of a grudge, bubbling and annoying me from the inside out. I tried to see the other side of the story, imagine, what the rain feels and the result is the followingContinue reading “I, Rain, by Britta Benson”

Summer then, by Britta Benson

Today, a memory of summer then invaded my peace with beauty and soft reminiscing. I hadn’t invited the memory in, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t welcome. The summers of our childhood hold a special place in our history. This very special time that seemed to last forever. No school, and yet, we learned aContinue reading “Summer then, by Britta Benson”

Split infinitives, by Britta Benson

A poem of a friend of mine has inspired me to write a Golden Shovel poem. Here’s the original: ‘Could breath cloud time but colour life’s vision’ Fridge poem by Gail Henderson Here’s what I made of it, using each word of Gail’s poem as last word of a line in mine – in theContinue reading “Split infinitives, by Britta Benson”

I smile, by Britta Benson

Some days, smiling is easier than on others. Today, it took me until the afternoon, but I got there, eventually. I’m getting better at not giving up, even if it means that I have to muddle through for a while. Perhaps I should remind myself more often, that life is not a race. So hereContinue reading “I smile, by Britta Benson”

What silence does, by Britta Benson

This morning, I got up as usual, before everyone else in my home, and I sat in my living room in silence. I like to start the day quietly if at all possible. Silence is a great friend. And like all true friends, it doesn’t tell me what I want to hear, but what IContinue reading “What silence does, by Britta Benson”

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