Winter to Spring

Last week’s workshop at Bradgate Park was very enjoyable: a full house despite the rainy weather.  We wrote poems loosely (very loosely) based on sonnet forms.

In the time since the last workshop, I visited the Record Office at Wigston (https://www.leicestershire.gov.uk/leisure-and-community/history-and-heritage/visit-the-record-office/about-the-record-office).  If you’re interested in local history, family history and related subjects then it’s a treasure trove, and the staff are really helpful.  Whilst looking for records relating to Bradgate Park, I found catalogue of a sale of land and buildings at the Park and in the surrounding areas, from the 1920s.

Having selected some phrases and typed them up, I challenged the poets to include phrases from the catalogue in their poems; some were easier than others to make use of!  “Amidst fine woodland scenery” and “timber-capped ridges overlooking views” are fairly straightforward.  Less obvious are “attainted and convicted of treason” or “no person shall advance”!

I enjoyed listening to examples from everyone’s writing despite running over time – these workshops fly past (amidst fine woodland scenery).  The next workshop is at 10.30 on Tuesday, June 19th – You can book  a place by calling 0116 236 2713 extension 25 between 11 and 3.30 any day, or  by visiting the Visitor Centre.

In the end, it’s all about poetry, and I’m very grateful to Brian Owens for this contribution from the Spring workshop.  It opens with the brilliant close-up image of “tiny razored teeth” of new nettles, and ends with Spring emerging despite “Winter’s final spiteful fling”; a phrase that sounds great as well as being effective description.  Thanks to Brian; look forward to more contributions as the year goes on.

 

Winter to Spring.

The tiny razored teeth of emerging stinging nettles rasp

through the flattened chewed grasses

Close besides the fibromyalgia contorted limbs of cankered

rotting oaks

The stretching copper tipped spears of lengthening sedges

search for the muted overcast Spring light

Scattered amongst the sodden, dimpled deer-trampled

cushions of torn and ridged ground

The wistful warming west wet winds brush the faces of

walkers and huddled ramblers

Past drenched ditches half filled with cold Winter’s lashing

rains and Siberian snows

Winter’s final spiteful fling rails against the tumbled fences

and the inevitable coming dance of joyful Spring.

 

Brian Owens