This is that feeling, by Britta Benson

This is that feeling Summer of ‘83. Thirteen, underdeveloped, ridiculous. On my white t-shirt, tiny multi-coloured stars. Yellow, green, satin shorts, no fashion sense, even back then. My rainbow rollerskates act like the wings of a mythical beast. I glide, I dart, weave. And I know: this is that feeling. Free. Wind. Fast. Me.

National Bad Poetry Day, by Britta Benson

It’s National Bad Poetry Day today. I wrote about it on Britta’s Blog (https://brittasblog422041504.wordpress.com/2022/08/18/national-bad-poetry-day/), but of course I couldn’t refuse contributing my own Bad Poetry Day poem. It had to be done… Here goes: National Bad Poetry Day At the end of a day, miles of thread that won’t weave… Lines upon lines, their textures

Behaving like humans, by Britta Benson

This poem was inspired by a free expressive writing workshop, run by Michelle Berberet (https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/expressive-writing-zoom-workshop-fall-session-tickets-399661768107?aff=ebdssbdestsearch&keep_tld=1). These Tuesday classes have become a fixture in my diary and I cannot recommend them highly enough. The group is simply wonderful. Supportive. Creative. Human… Behaving like humans Simple. One rule. Send love. In a breath, a thought, a word,

Settled, by Britta Benson

I love yarrow. Especially the various stages of going into seed. Fascinating plant. Weed? I suppose so. On my evening walk, I stopped and stopped again to look at the spent flowers and I thought, hey, someone needs to write a poem about yarrow. Here goes… Settled Evening walk, sun’s final path lined by common

The tenacity of centenarians

I love cacti. Tonight I attended a cacti-themed nature writing workshop lead by Lizzie Elliot from Seawyld (www.seawyld.com), and here’s the poem I wrote. Cacti are wonderful creatures. They deserve a good few poems written about them. The tenacity of centenarians You snatch your angel’s share from mists and time, borrow moisture from the wind,

That moment, by Britta Benson

Every week, I look forward to the W3 poetry challenge, hosted by David on The Skeptic’s Kaddish. This week, the guidelines, set by A.J. Wilson, are as follows: Write a poem in no more than 12 lines, include the word ‘waiting’. Here’s the link to the full blog post: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/07/27/w3-prompt-13-weave-written-weekly/ Here’s my response… inspired by

In security, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to Brian Vos’s Weekly Poetry Prompt. This week, the theme is ‘insecurity’. Here’s the link to the full blog post: https://brianvos.com/2022/07/15/insecurity-your-weekly-poetry-prompt/ As per usual, I’m taking the prompt round the corner and for a wee walk. Here goes: In security In security lies calm. In security lies peace. In security lies the

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: https://wordcraftpoetry.com/2022/07/12/tankatuesday-poetry-challenge-no-280-specificform-lanturne-or-lanterne/ 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 any

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: https://brianvos.com/2022/07/08/faith-your-weekly-poetry-prompt/ Then, the local miniature railway enthusiasts held their annual exhibition in the building next to where I’m staying. I made

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.