Welcome To Poet’s Corner
So soon we are at the end of the first month of 2007.
Christmas almost forgotten, waistbands tighter. New Year
Resolutions made, some already broken but Spring is definitely
on its way. I have two daffodils out in flower in my
garden as well as snowdrops - it is lovely to see them.
My thanks to Margery Cambridge for her poem describing her love
of Norfolk. Margery lives near Dereham and is often heard on
“Maggie’s Brew” on Radio Norfolk. Many thanks also to Jenny
Eleftheriades for her very meaningful poem. Jenny lives in
Brancaster. She has had her book “ A Grand Passion” the
biography of Charlotte Bronte, published and she has published
books of her own poems.
I am sure you will enjoy reading my choiceS for this month.
Please keep on sending us your self-penned poems, it would be
nice to have some about Easter. When sending poems, please make
them 40 lines maximum and please include a few details about
yourself with a contact phone number or email address. No
personal details will appear on Poet’s Corner if you prefer.
Bye for now,
VISIT TO RADIO NORFOLK - SUNDAY, 28 JANUARY
People often ask me what it is like in the studio of BBC
Radio Norfolk and what Maggie Secker is like. Well
Maggie is a nice person and very bubbly.
also writes amusing poems.
When I was invited to take part in the show recently, I took
my camera with me.
Whilst “Hey there Georgie Girl” was playing for listeners to
enjoy, Maggie and I discussed the poems I had taken to
read. Soon I was live on air and Maggie enjoyed my
You can find out more by visiting BBC Radio Norfolk’s
website which you can find at:
Where My Heart Is
Norfolk, the place where I belong
Fills my eyes with beauty
And file he art I'd th song
As I walk her quiet byways and cross her little streams,
Lean upon the farm gate
Have time to stand and dream.
There is a precious solitude, its hers and hers alone
Which keeps me ever captured by the place I call my home,
There's a gentle, friendly feeling that lingers in her lanes,
A sense of everlasting in her ancient village names.
In Spring her quiet hedgerows burst with flowers and fern
Sometimes you'll find an orchid
Where the pathways twist and turn.
Golden corn and scarlet poppies grow 'neath open Summer skies
On ponds are little waterhens and lovely dragon-flies.
Peace descends on everything vvhen Autumn crons are clear,
And Winter has that special "hush" that ends the farming year.
There is a deep contentment that never goes away
But grows ever deeper as I live my life each day,
For Norfolk, my Norfolk, the place where I belong
Is the place that holds my heartstrings
And I've loved so deep and long,
And when at last I'm laid to rest beneath her friendly turf
I'll be at peace forever in the county of my birth.
Not By Bread Alone
By Jenny Eleftheriades
She sat, cowered, in the corner of the room,
We, tired, found a table opposite;
My companions talked about the menu
But my head was numb, as always after
A long ride. l feebly looked about me,
The large room was comfortable and warm;
I eased my legs which ached from sitting long,
Took off my coat, and, feeling dizzy
Wished for bed, but the others wished for food.
I have often wondered about Christ's words,
"Man does not live by bread alone, " What then?
I was indeed needful of other food,
Some spark of life; and then, at once, it came,
All unexpectedly and from a most
Unlikely source; my eyes came to rest on
The woman opposite.
She looked lonely,
Tired of life, as if she had not known
The love of humankind for a long time.
She must have felt my eyes fall upon her
For she looked up. A warmth came over me
And I smiled. Oh, how great was my reward,
Far more than I deserved for just a smile;
For there, at once, was a face transfigured,
Her eyes, like stars, lit up, her smile warm and
Real came from deep within. 'T was as if from
Both of us the devils fled and there stood
Angels in their stead, and in that moment we
Had both been fed with Christ's food and I knew
What that food was, love. And I felt sad too
For in my heart I knew that thousands
On this lonely earth are starving to death.