Lake, by Britta Benson

I’ve never written a lanturne. This is a first. I came across a challenge on Word Craft Poetry and couldn’t resist. Here’s the link to the full blog post: Initially, I struggled with a theme. Then, I thought, hey, I’m swimming in a lake every day, so why not use that? So without anyContinue reading “Lake, by Britta Benson”

Gods, by Britta Benson

I usually write a response to Brian Vos’s Weekly Poetry Prompt. This week, the prompt is ‘Faith’ and I struggled for a wee while with a response. Here’s the link to his blog post: Then, the local miniature railway enthusiasts held their annual exhibition in the building next to where I’m staying. I madeContinue reading “Gods, by Britta Benson”

Grass angels, by Britta Benson

Grass angels Lying in the lush, sun on my heart, hand reaches out to you, the sky, that cinnabar moth on the buttercup. We laugh. Secret of survival. Our souls make it to the next level, that foreign land, called home.

To a friend, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt. This week, the prompt word is ‘flippant’ with a word count of 74. You can read the full post here: There’s a story to this piece. When I read the prompt word ‘flippant’, I immediately thought of an old school friend who flippantly suggested, that ifContinue reading “To a friend, by Britta Benson”

Silvering, by Britta Benson

I’ve been thinking about driftwood. Also, about aging. About how driftwood becomes more and more bleached by the elements, almost silver. About the flotsam and jetsam of life and that led me to the line ‘flot some and jet some’. The poetic journey began. Here goes: Silvering Ghosts come and go, like people, really. LetContinue reading “Silvering, by Britta Benson”

Sleepless, by Britta Benson

Sleepless nights. I don’t get them very often, but when I do, there’s no stopping them. Once my dreams have given up on me for good, the night is over. I can’t blame her… I guess, I should stick with my dreams for a little longer, even the silly ones. Especially the silly ones. UntilContinue reading “Sleepless, by Britta Benson”

On my rock, by Britta Benson

I ask myself all sorts of questions. Today, for example, I wondered: What would I write on a rock? A friend of mine paints lovely patterns on small stones she finds in her local area. I like the idea very much. On my rock On my rock, no hard words, just the whisper of aContinue reading “On my rock, by Britta Benson”

If I can dream it, by Britta Benson

This feels like a very suitable poem for a Friday. A good way to send you into the weekend… Here goes: If I can dream it If I can dream it, it’s already real in my soul. If it’s already real in my soul, then who am I to argue? Surely, my heart, my feet,Continue reading “If I can dream it, by Britta Benson”

Togetherness, by Britta Benson

This poem started as a handful of scribbles during a meeting of the Boundary Way Writers Group in February 2022. I am part of the Boundary Way Writers – which is nothing short of ‘modern’, since the group of nature writers is based in Wolverhampton, around the Boundary Way allotments, but hey ho, this isContinue reading “Togetherness, by Britta Benson”

Why I follow the groove, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to the W3 Poetry Challenge. This week’s challenge: write a poem in response to Kunjal’s ‘Rain’, no longer than 16 lines and must include the word ‘groovy’. You can read the full blog post here: I wanted to write about ‘groove’, than started with ‘groove-y’, ‘groove – Y/why?’ and it turnedContinue reading “Why I follow the groove, by Britta Benson”

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