This poem by Kent & Sussex Poetry Society member, local poet and performer Peppy Scott was selected in our 2018 competition and published in Folio #72. @PeppyScott https://harridanswall.wordpress.com/
Her garden holds a witch’s brew of feverfew and valerian Balms to calm delirium Smiling heads of camomile nodding off in unmade beds of weeds Self-seeded adoptees, she tends to their needs with the ministrations of a mother’s love Guardian against tidy horticultural trends she defends her semi-wild dispensary Apothecary’s chest of restful cures for the same cares as of old but sold by new names now She knows how to blend a decoction of verbena Grandmother’s verbal guide to the herbal Instilled in her, still fresh, eternal
Each warm afternoon In the appled shade of the orchard’s glade she will sit and knit and sip a draught of her favoured remedy, the cure-all – Soothing stimulant, healer of ill humours Morning eyebright, evening nightshade Companion in solitude, bringer-together of friends Power in its ordinary subtlety – no blunt narcotic
Among her restorative recipes this alone is not home-grown Imported exotic scented with bergamot Measured into its bone china pot Hot-infused and timed with ceremony to perfect its potency, hit the spot and energise the senses Treasured lifter of the spirit: Camellia sinensis
Assembling Dad, by Kent and Sussex Poetry Society Clare Marsh, a writer of children’s fiction, short stories, flash fiction and poetry, was Commended in our 2019 Folio competition, and published in Folio #73.Clare graduated with an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Kent in 2018. She can be found on Facebook at claremarshwriter1
Dad sits at his bureau flap
under the ebony crucifix
and scrutiny of his Sacred Heart statue.
Settling with a tuneless whistle,
he rubs his hands, unpacks the Airfix kit,
twists grey pieces from the plastic frame –
frowns at the forty-six-step instruction sheet.
He cements the fuselage, wings, propellers
of a Supermarine Spitfire.
Pipe clenched between dentures,
wreathed in blue-smoke haze –
he’s the lone male in the house
bemused by girls’ toys,
‘Women’s Lib’, burgeoning hormones.
Blast! A vital part drops,
the cockpit landing on camouflage lino,
skitters across the floor.
Giggling, we three girls kneel to search,
while Mum prays to St Anthony,
patron saint of lost objects.
The piece retrieved, Dad prizes lids
off tiny tins of enamel paint
covers the model with deft brush strokes,
tells us (yet again) how he missed out
on an art career because of the war.
He soaks transfers in warm water,
floats off the backing, using tweezers
applies decals and serial numbers.
Later, he’ll attach a thread
to suspend the plane in mid-flight.
After his death we dismantle
improbable ceiling dog-fights
between the Spitfire and Concorde
while Dad, disassembled,
stands sentinel in his urn
on the bureau.
This poem by Society member Veronica Beedham was commended in the 2019 members’ competition, and published in the Society’s Folio #73. Veronica’s Overton Prize winning pamphlet A Sense of Place is available from Loughborough University
‘Che paesaggi che ci sono qui!’ Renzo Bertasi
Mist all week over the lake spun from nothing white as hoar-frost
so we took the boat eager for passage from the ordinary world
into this other cold untouchable the mountains hidden
and if there were an Ice Queen she was far off sullen deep in snow
for the mist was like snow like snow’s soft oppression against a window the moon
rising above which was the sun poised on a ribbon of silver
but we were just journeying all we ever knew lost
keel cutting through the black mirror sibilance of water waiting for the jetty
Poet, playwright, and translator Sasha Dugdale was born in Sussex, England. She has worked as a consultant for theatre companies in addition to writing her own plays. From 1995 to 2000, she worked for the British Council in Russia. She is author of the poetry collections The Estate (2007), Notebook (2003), and Red House (2011) and has translated Russian poetry and drama, including Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard. Sasha Dugdale’s ‘Joy’ contains the title-piece of her fourth collection from Carcanet , which won the 2016 Forward Prize for Best Single Poem.
On November 19 we will be welcoming Sasha Dugdale to the Vittle and Swig. Please join us! There will be an Open Mic before the main reading so come along for an 8 o’clock start with your poem for us all to hear.