Longing for water, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to this week’s W3 poetry challenge. The prompt guideline, set by Sylvia Cognac: write a poem that contains the word ‘water’. Here’s the link to the full blog post: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/08/03/w3-prompt-14-weave-written-weekly/ I write about water a lot. It’s one of my favourite subject that never ceases to amaze me. Perhaps it’s due to

On water, by Britta Benson

I crossed the Channel on from Dunkerque to Dover today, spending a good chunk of the journey on deck, staring at the water. Here’s what I thought: On water Who does water belong to? Lines on charts mark territories. Water laughs, moves, here, there, depending on tides, winds, the murmur of moments. We draw borders,

Body of water, by Britta Benson

This poem comes without great explanations. Just a wee musing about water. Because I like it. Body of water Water all around me, top, bottom, left and right, I live in Scotland, home of wet, drench and soak, Mother of all rain. Waterlogged, inside and out. Our bodies, mostly good old H2O. That stuff has

Like memories, by Britta Benson

I wrote this poem yesterday, during an expressive writing workshop. Not sure if it’s finished yet. I like it the way it is, but might play around with it in a wee while. Like memories Like memories, always, flexible, stretchy, sketchy, the plasticity of my neurons at play. Stories told, a little different every time.

Deep water poetess, by Britta Benson

This poem is my response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/20204174/posts/3869536963 This week’s prompt is ‘Rune’, in 96 words. I went for a walk on one of my favourite beaches today in North Berwick and looking at the wet sand, I saw all the little marks, dips, crevasses left by the sea, constantly changing.

Water Falls, by Britta Benson

I took the path to the Fairy Pools today, at the foot of the Black Cuillins. Always a magical experience. I feel a lot happier and lighter now. A lot wetter too. My toes are slowly starting to recover from the cold water. Brilliant, brilliant day. Just what I needed. Water Falls The morning mist