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Welcome once again to Poet's Corner.
The weather was kind to us for the
Scarecrow Festival and both
Stella and I enjoyed chatting to friends old and new.
We did have promises of more poems,
so
we look forward to those.
Thank you to Renee Smith and James
Stuart
for their poems which we have selected for June.
Don't forget to tell us a little about yourself
when submitting poems, including contact details
(personal details will not be published).
Look out for details of future "themes" and
news of
competitions, meetings etc.
Please visit again soon.
Bye for now.
DOREEN
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Heacham
by Renee Smith, Heacham
I've travelled far in
miles across the years
Seen many a glorious beach and thundering sea,
Yet wake each morning, oh so glad to find
That Heacham's healing peace now nurtures me.
There is a magic here, so I have found
An alchemy of sky and sand and sea
That cast a spell upon my heart and mind
That Heacham, Heacham is the place to be.
Is it in the cry of migrant bird
Or whispered by an east wind in my ear?
Or is the message carried by the waves?
I only know the truth of what I hear.
That here I find the peace that I have sought
In tides and skies unfurled for me to see
The Artists brushwork on the canvas of my life
That Heacham, Heacham is the place for me. |
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Summer Sunday in Norfolk
by James Stuart, Cambridge
Pantiled roofs and
sandstone walls
reflect the early morning sun.
Heacham wakens from its slumber,
now another day's begun.
Trickles first, of early cars
down Lamsey Lane begin.
Filtering from streams of others
on the main road up from Lynn.
Under eaves the birds abustle,
fly for food then back again.
Cackling hens round housewives'
skirts, clamouring for grain.
Pigeons swoop for breadcrumbs,
vie with starlings on the street.
Tame and daring in their venture,
as they dart beneath our feet.
Heacham beach almost deserted,
save for those who like to be,
on the shore-line, before breakfast,
skating stones into the sea.
Hungry Gulls devouring Cockles,
following the ebbing tide.
Shrimps, escaping to the water,
Crabs dig into sand to hide.
Up the coast, there in Hunstanton,
sunshine glints on window panes.
While across the wash in Boston
falls a soft refreshing rain.
Warm they say today in Norfolk,
Cromer, Norwich, Yarmouth too.
Soon brings out the towing vans,
cars and coaches join the queue.
Sunday market bright and busy,
once where railway platform seen,
"Sally Arnie" toots their trumpets,
on the gentle sloping green.
Myriad sails and waterskiers,
kids on sand and kites in sky,
all enjoy the clean fresh air
of old Hunstanton, in July.
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