Memories shaped from wet sand

We met for the last time at the Sherston Inn on Monday evening. Alas, the availability of cheap booze and cheap food at a nearby establishment has forced the closure (on 25th March) of this historic coaching-inn.

Sara was in the chair, and her topic was Water. This enabled four of the six Watery Poets to perform two-thirds of their set from last Saturday’s Day of Good Poetry (see the previous post, below). We had  watery poems also from Rachael (“In its Element” and “I have not heard”), Jinny (“Grooming Fish” and “Camouflage”), Karin (“A Fishy Tale”), Wendy (a modern ballad in traditional form, “The Drowning at Cinder Hope Ford”), Linda (“Searching for the Shinings”), Andy (“Bath-Time” and “Flow-form”), Morag (“The Splash”), Gill (“Towards Evening”, a memory of floating candles on Hiroshima Day, read in Gill’s absence by Ama), and Mark (“A Costly Bath”), as well as some splendid water-related riddles in the Anglo-Saxon tradition from Richard and a handful of sparkling haiku from Caroline.

Off-topic we had two poems with a twist of the unexpected from Ewa and  Mark (“By bus to Weston Super Mare”), “March” and a strongly evocative poem “Cwm Rhondda” from Rosalie, and Ewan’s “The Boy from Wales”. Karin’s intricate narrative poem “Sugar Man” provided this post’s title. In addition we enjoyed Wendy’s wistful and evocative “Topsy Turvy”, and Ewa read Warsan Shire’s wonderful poem “For women who are difficult to love“. Altogether it was a good session.

Next month we shall be meeting on Monday April 13th in the cocktail bar of the Rose and Crown, 7 St John Street, Wells BA5 1SW. There is no car-park, but on-street parking is allowed in the evenings. The Google map is here. Caroline will chair the meeting and her topic is,  naturally, “Cocktails”. Cheers!

Poetry is not a discipline. It’s a hunger, a revolt, a drive, a mash note, a fright, a tantrum, a grief, a hoax, a debacle, an application, an affect. We cannot make the gods come. All we can do is sweep the steps of the temple and thus we sit down to our desks. – Dean Young


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