Personal Poem

The clerk and the dairymaid went to live in a terrace in grim Southall town.

They had little money but lived with his Mummy, two girls and a terrier, brown.

The house had a garden, a small wooden shed and a lilac tree I liked to climb,

A thin, scruffy lawn and a vegetable patch ( plus a top bunk I wanted as mine.)

My sister was younger and timid, back then. I told her such stories for fun

About pirates and dragons and things that go bump in the night – although there were none.

The tales father read were of Winnie the Pooh, Just So Stories, poems and more

Like The Tree that Sat Down and The Stream that Stood Still, with witches and magic galore.

Our Junior School was in Beaconsfield Road, with the gasometer for a view

And a playground for girls and another for boys, something that, now, wouldn’t do.

And yet all that dreaming, the stories and games, the dressing up we did for fun

Left me with a legacy I wouldn’t change- made the child the adult I’ve become.

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Promotion through talks

What a great start to the week. I gave two talks on ” My Life and Works” and sold five books at each. The audience at these social gatherings are always so kind and friendly that they are a joy to do, even if I do have a half hour walk to a train station pulling my trolley. My fault for refusing to take the car!

It is always interesting to discover which part of the talk interests them most and it is usually the fact that I used to tutor dyslexics. It is amazing how many people tell me of someone in their family with the same problem and the stories about help or lack of it depending on where they live.

Tonight I am taking some poems to a folk club as they sometimes allow me to recite.Hopefully by Saturday my printer will be operating and I can start advertising our next Charity Gig. Pity I’ll miss Crawley Book Fair but I do like my annual weekend in a hotel and this time it’s Cardiff.bookwormclipart

Food Fair

Not feeling poetic today but I did take a picture of the paella at the Worthing Food Fair today. We had some for lunch, with some local cider and wandered round the stalls selling food from all over the world. We brought back some baklava and had it with a cup of tea on our return. ( honey and almond)

I’m giving two talks next week and without a printer I’ll have to work from notes. I don’t often stick to the script anyway. This time it isn’t WI but a Parkinson’s group and a Church Fellowship Group. I think my stories should appeal to them and as the first talk is in Chichester I’m going to treat myself to a day out.

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Poem. My Autumn.

Sweet September starts my year as Summer’s blossoms fade away

Long, lazy days come to an end and work replaces holiday.

Autumn is time to start anew, to see the year with eager eyes

To learn, to change, prepare to share the future’s festival of surprise.

October’s when we start to climb to chilly Winter’s highest peak;

Three months of fire and feast and fun give us the energy we seek.

Another year, with new resolve – we pause, then slide down Winter’s slope

Forgetting when the seeds were sown for Spring’s fresh meadowland of hope.

 

I decided not to enter the competition but post it here, instead.)

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What kind of poetry?

As I am not writing a novel at present I thought I might try some competitions. The one in the Writing Magazine looked promising. We needed to write an autumn poem that didn’t seem hackneyed ( No mists and mellow fruitfulness) When I was a schoolteacher we used to ask the children to think of lots of words that reminded them of autumn and then turn them into a poem. Naturally we had loads of red and golden leaves, along with bonfire night and getting ready for Christmas.

I looked at the winning poems in other competitions and found that free verse, without rhyme, usually won first prize. OK – I thought, I’ll try that. So I did and the fourth line rhymed with the second line in spite of my efforts. What should I do – write in sentences and then split them into phrases or give up and write the kind of verse I usually compose? I forced myself not to use rhyming couplets.

Serious poets would only sneer.

If I don’t enter the competition

I’ll post it somewhere here.

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Entertainment

I am trying to take my phone with a camera everywhere like the youngsters do and this week I’m feeling cheerful as the kitchen has a new lighting system and someone is coming to fix my printer.

This picture ( if it comes out) is of our favourite traditional jazz band, the Featherstone Jazzband who play at a number of venues in Sussex including Lancing Leisure Centre.

Our writing group. the Sea Scribes, will be booking the leisure centre for a charity gig in November with music from local folk singers and stories and poems from the group. We will also have books for sale.

As soon as this is confirmed it will be on my website, http://www.juliecround.co.uk where you can find a gallery of everything I have been involved in for the last few years.

jazzband at Lancing