Just started a series of creative writing workshops at Carsington Water as part of my 2018 writer residency. Had a fantastic day talking, walking and writing with an exceptionally talented group of young writers. They bring some of the wild inhabitants of this wonderful landscape to life in their group poems…
LEAVING A MAP
to hide is my nature
my industrial shell
small shy sucker
avoiding eagle eyes
feeling the dimensions
of the ground as I slide
my shining path
giving me away as I
leave a map behind
FULL OF EARTH
taking soil in his mouth,
making soil in his mouth
between the winter blades.
creating an intricate network
of passages, giggling as it tickles
his wet ridged skin.
Fat and slim, long and low,
the earth as he goes.
These ancient crawlers are watchers,
eyes fixed in every direction on
frost-dappled strings of light.
Dressed to kill in their furry coats
They are patient, predatory, poised
on intricate death traps, on eight legs
but it only takes one bite…
AINT NO LADY
Ruby red and splattered with black ink blobs,
she dazzles passers-by with her stories
of fire and fairy wings; small creatives,
red midget ladies in a big world.
A world beguiled by the way she crawls
along its curious fingers until
a yellow, poisonous pus shoots out
of her knees, and we see her true nature.
US AND THEM
You are stripy, buzzing, hard working, struggling.
juggling work with hive life, but you never stop humming,
your fuzzy gold and coal black body always turning
nectar into honey with a sting that brings a death sentence.
We prefer sitting, chatting, picnicking and when you come
we start running, batting, flapping, whacking, it’s true,
we run from you miracle workers, pollinators, propagators,
ironic as you don’t need us but boy, do we need you!