This summer, once again, I led stand alone poetry workshops at Whitby Folk Week. I have met some wonderful people doing this, many who come back year on year.
I always invite participants to send me poems I can share on my blog. There is no pressure to do so, and some will want to send them out to poetry magazines instead. But here are some wonderful poems from this year’s workshops. Enjoy.
Purple pockets, corked with bees
searching for every nectar blossom.
Stems rising through fiery nettle beds
to display flowers of amethyst digits.
Leaves and flowers pulped,
juice solidified, prescribed to heal.
Slowly absorbed, strengthening every
fibrillating heart beat of a tired old body.
A witch’s glove, mixed with the dandelions
ochre flowers and weeping leaves.
A colourful puree in the chalice tea,
seen only through haloed light, until the end.
Sharon Fishwick Whitby 2017
When the Gorse is out of bloom
Kissing is out of season
Or so she learnt as they walked together
On hills bright with golden flowers
Across fields, over stiles, through kissing gates
Now she knows the prickles of gorse
Walks through kissing gates alone
But the herbal tells her
Gorse – a remedy for despair
End of term gift
The primrose bloomed on the windowsill for weeks
Then was planted out
Next to the rose the builders had trampled and destroyed
Months later it flowered again
The rose threw up fresh shoots
Messages, when they needed them most
That life goes on.