A Final Thought…
lifestyle
Poetry for pleasure by JERRY DOWLEN
It has been said that many people turn to poetry at times of celebration or grief. There is ample evidence of this: verse is often printed inside birthday and Christmas cards or is recited at weddings and funerals. You may remember how W.H. Auden’s poem ‘Stop all the clocks’ reached a large audience of cinemagoers when featured in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral in 1994. Here in Orpington, our Croft Poetry Club, founded in 2014, has more than 30 members who enjoy writing, reading, reciting and discussing poetry. Currently during the lockdown, club activity is restricted to fortnightly meetings online via Zoom, but it certainly hasn’t stopped the creative flow of new poems that reflect upon the coronavirus and its dramatic effect upon our lives. From its base at the Croft Tea Room, St Mary Cray, the Croft Poetry Club has engaged with the local community since opening. Members were invited during 2014 to recite war poetry at church and civic events marking the centenary of the 1914-1918 conflict. Doubra Fufeyin read her poem The Lost Ones to a packed congregation, including our local MP and the Deputy Mayor, at All Saints Church Orpington on the Remembrance Sunday. In subsequent years we have added many public recitals and accomplishments to our name, including a filmed appearance on ITV News London in 2018. Our outreach venues have included branch libraries, churches, village halls and rest homes, while our range of recited poetry has expanded across the centuries - from Shakespeare and William Wordsworth, to Pam Ayers, Carol Ann Duffy and Roger McGough. One of our best received series of recitals was the poetry of Mary Wilson, wife of the former Prime Minister, to mark her death in 2018 at the age of 102. Our club has a local origin; we were founded in tribute to the Bromley poet and pacifist Donald Ward (1909-2003). Our book, Dove on the Wing (2013), featured the life and work of a nature-loving conservationist whose poems described the area of Chelsfield where he lived, and the adjoining countryside of Cudham, Darenth, High Elms and other localities. What is the appeal of poetry – to the reader or to the writer? I already know that readers of Life in Orpington enjoy dabbling in poetry because I have seen some lovely poems of yours in recent issues. My advice is: don’t be shy - have a try! You might be motivated to write about something topical; an incident in your life; a place you have visited; something glad … something sad. Express it in rhythm and rhyme, and there is your poem! Send your completed poems to the editor of Life in Orpington because I know that she will welcome receiving them and she will publish the best ones.
To find out more information about the Croft Poetry Club visit facebook.com/CroftPoetryClub/ A selection of Christmas poems from members… Pandemic Christmas Christmas at a distance Will be an act of love Sending feelings technically When it used to be a hug. Can pretty paper, words on cards, And gifts deftly wrapped Say what one wants to say And leave the heart intact? Paula Piggott This Christmas will be different This Christmas will be different: We cannot say just how: Maybe with our loved ones, Maybe alone for now. Others made a journey To a place they didn’t know. They huddled in a stable: Nowhere else to go. This Christmas will be different: Back to basics, shall we say. A time to truly savour That first Christmas day. Joyce Ozsvald Christmas Acrostic 2020 C is for Covid! Is it down the drain at last! H is ‘Hello, Christmas Spirit’. Let’s hope it gets here fast. R is Rave Ups! – or will lockdown come again? I is Isolating – causing family pain. S is Supermarkets and the Christmas Fayre. T is Trust in hospitals so generous with their care. M is for the Metres rule – safety must come first! A is Allowing Pantos, laughing till we burst! S is for our Santa who has had so much to do: Sanitising reindeer hooves and making masks for you. Jacky Cook Baby’s First Christmas Baby looked puzzled and wondered why, suddenly he was surrounded by, the very same objects that he had tried to take from under the Christmas tree. His parents were on bended knee, unwrapping presents for him to see, holding them up one by one,
to their somewhat bewildered son. There were toys all shining and new, but their baby didn’t have a clue; he just sat there with a happy grin, preferring paper they’d been wrapped in! Geraldine Ann Ford
lifeinmagazines.co.uk
December 2020 Life in... Orpington 31
