Beware! Beware!: The Power of Poetry

And Beware! Beware! The Power of mud. Last Saturday's West Sussex Enrichment Programme workshop at Pulborough Brooks was the wettest and muddiest ever. Luckily I was working with an intrepid bunch of students: 'Shall we turn back or go onward into the Bog of Doom?' was the question, 'ONWARD!' the unanimous reply. And through the Bog of Doom, the Puddle of Despair and the Pool of Stench we went, bewellied or bewildered, and returned with some excellent poetry, and some wet socks.

I was particularly drawn to this Sweet Chestnut tree, or rather, tree community. The old tree had fallen, uprooted in one of the big storms of the last 30 years. (I remember 1987 as the biggest. I was in a tower block in Southampton, shaking. (Me and the tower block)) Several branches were dead and rotting but there was enough flow of life through the remaining roots and sap in the trunk to spring several new trees reaching up to the light. Several of a poet's favourite themes there. Here's a bit of what it inspired in me:

The bark of sweet chestnut,
Like olive after rain,
Gave me mind
Of my sister's skin.
And tears are not
As persistent as rain.
In this light,
Life is shining.


Thanks to all who came. Keep exploring.

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