Monday, 31 July 2017

Snow Drop Poems

Today our writing was inspired by snowdrops. Some of us entered a competition run by the Dunedin Public Library and Larnach Castle who are hosting a Snowdrop Day on 20 August. They have heaps of them apparently!

White lies in waiting
the passive ready to be acted on
the show before the first footprints
the page ready for the words
white marks a new beginning
the bride begins a new life
white is the humble snowdrop
that hands its head under its weight
be gentle with white
easily crushed, easily marred, easily spoiled
white does not stay pure long
the page, the dress yellow with age
the snowdrop gives way to the primrose
white is temporary like winter
with applied warmth it buds
once marked it cannot be undone
white can never be a virgin again
once the marriage had begun
the progress is measured by its lessening
the more the lines on the page
the less white shows.
The white stands as background
for the true work.

- Helen


"Hello little snowdrop, I didn't see you there!"
"Hello my giant friend, I couldn't miss you, but most people pass me by as they see me as insignificant."
"Oh dear one, how lonely that must be!"
"No, as you can see I have many other little friends."
"But you are so beautiful; how can those of my kind pass you by?"
"We only come up at the beginning of spring, grown from the snow in winter, when your kind are only watching for the ice, not to slip and fall."
"Well my my, I must inform my own friends of your marvelous beauty."

- Katie-Rose McRobbie

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Poetic Shapes

Today we looked at poetry created in a shape that reflects what the poem is about - or vice versa. Here's a couple of examples, two in shapes and one that unraveled along the way.


of friends
inside the triangle
of life, to make light
in the darkness, to make
sense of the unknown future

- Robert 


My dog
has fleas
the bridge
Words float from
my lips. Patterns of
sound bounce, jump
jangle, jiggle. It's a 
bit of a giggle. 
Fun in a box. 
Fobbed off on kids. 
Left in a toy cupboard with 
broken strings. Or crafted and
 cared for and played with a 
passion accompanied by a 
go-go dancer in drag. Make 
it what you will. Give it 
love and it will 

- Paul Smith


My mother told me I was born with wings,
tucked neatly behind my back.
To this day the most beautiful words she ever spoke to me.
She told me I was an angel,
yet my wings had to be clipped away to enter into this world.

My upbringing, each day I would shed some of my feathers.
With each adverse experience I became more damaged - more ragged.

The other day, gazing up at the sky,
I locked my eyes on a few soaring birds,
I want to tell them how beautiful they are when they spread their wings.

I want to tell myself that it is time to spread my wings too.

- Eleanor Harrison

"No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings"

- William Blake

Today we feature one of our regular writers who has diligently written up the poems she has developed at the Artsenta Writer's Group ove...