Hi All

Next month’s subject is The Holiday. This can be a dream holiday that perhaps one day you will take, a day trip from your childhood or even a bank holiday. The choice is yours. As always please make your poem no longer than twenty lines and I’d like them in by Thursday 21st July.

A quick reminder for your diary, our next Open Mic Evening will be at Gayton Library on Monday 18th July from 6/7.30. Why not bring your competition entries along?

Our latest competition subject was Moving and I have just taken off my Judge Judy hat and the winning poem is Jeffery A Edmunds’ poem:


“You’re moving again?

Where to this time?

Yes, you can have the van and me to drive you, I suppose!”

Living my life on my toes, shifting stuff from one place to another… How big are the cockroaches here?

How big is the gap under the door?

How smelly is the garlic bread?

Are you sure you’re not eating it raw?

Not another party! Well, thanks for inviting me, but I have an early shift, you see. Don’t tell me it won’t be noisy. That means no sleep and a tired day for me.

Communal living is OK for a time, but it becomes irksome and everybody’s habits are a crime

Need to find something like home, a permanent base, with a garden and a fence That’s why I’m moving, yet again…

Congratulations to Jeff and he has his winning Certificate. However it was the most difficult competition to date to judge.

Sukriti Bisht age 10 showed exceptional maturity with her poem:


A fog of tears blurred my vision, as my suitcases slowly filled with provisions.

I was leaving my home, leaving my kin.

I was the most unhappy person there has ever been.

All I could do was cry, when it was time for me to say goodbye.

I staggered into the van.

This was when the journey began.

As the van twisted and turned, my stomach grumbled and churned.

Now all the sweet memories float in my mind and they put honey down my throat.

I was glad to have survived, when I had arrived.

Slowly, the unpacking began, and all the boxes were removed from the van.

After a few days, I tired to make friends with the people of frost,

but I guess moving on had to come at a cost.

First time entrant, Kay Seeley, proved a name to watch out for in the future with her poem:


Don’t live in the past, it doesn’t do to dwell,

On things that didn’t last, or didn’t go too well,

Should have, could have, would have, torment a troubled mind,

The thing you meant to say and do, leave them all behind,

Move On

Don’t regret the past, the things you’ve said and done,

It made you what you are today, the person you’ve become,

You did the best you could, as anybody would,

Things were different then, they’ll never come again,

So Just Move On

Take with you only things you love, the memories that you treasure,

Remember all the good times and moments filled with pleasure,

Don’t linger in the past, for it is dead and gone,

For happiness to last you really must -

Move On

Joy Brooks was in contention with her perfectly rhymed and scanned poem:


There are so many boxes, with all of our things,

Labelled and wrapped until we move in,

Crockery in newspaper, stacked up with care,

All in a carton, that waits on a chair,

With clothes neatly folded, placed out of sight,

Can’t think where I’ll find a nightgown tonight,

The knives and the forks are lost in the lounge,

The take away’s ordered, now they cannot be found,

The tea bags and coffee, I left in the hall,

So they wouldn’t get lost, now they’re not there at all,

Tomorrow up early, load up the van,

Move in, unpack, as soon as we can.

Peter Collins who picked up last month’s Harrow Times by chance entered with this poem:


Nine years ago I was divorced, a terrible time I confess, I moved from Stanmore to Bushey Heath and ended my terrible stress.

I moved from a three bedroom maisonette to a small one bedroom flat, I found peace and quiet, and had time to live, there was nothing wrong in that!

A retirement flat so warm and homely, with friendly residents to talk with, A park nearby five minutes away, close friends that I can walk with.

After losing a wife twenty four years ago, I've really been through the 'grind', But now thank God, I have a 'partner', and at last, have peace of mind.

I have friendly neighbours, a warden on hand and even an emergency chord, A cheap T.V. licence of seven pounds fifty, is something that I can afford.

There's a communal lounge, and things to do, nearly every day, And the warden's there if things go wrong, and soon she's on her way.

So now I am happy and contented again, I now can do as I please, No shouting, no nagging or jealousy,..... at last, I am at ease!

I see my family, I see lost friends, we sit and recount our lost youth, At seventy two I'm 'born again,' of this, I tell the truth.

My move I'm sure was meant to be, to a far much better life, No longer do I see that woman to me, who was my 'trouble and strife'.

The three worst things that lead to stress, are bereavement, moving home and divorce, I've faced all three, it wasn't easy for me, but now nature has taken its course.

We were treated to an acrostic from Patricia J Tausz:


Marching soldiers on high alert, on manoeuvres, on missions - always MOVING

Ordinary people becoming migrants as from place to place they are displaced - always MOVING

Violence always preceding peace and vice versa in continuous circles always MOVING                                    

Internal thoughts and ideas contrasting with external thoughts and ideas in ever increasing and decreasing circles but always MOVING                         

New follows old, regeneration follows decay always rotating always MOVING

Generation after generation of humankind along its path is always MOVING.

John Clarke by now is a familiar name and he wrote this poem:


What you call moving on, you twerp

Is a case of burying Your selfishness wants to usurp

The natural order of things Talk it out do not strike me dumb

Do not leave everything to fate Or things will bite you in the bum

At unforeseen later date What you sweep under the mat

You bring up as tit for tat

Move out you pesky so-and-so I hope for someone better

Don’t mind about me, go, go, go!

I call you an upsetter

Sometimes the grass just looks greener

Better the devil you know

My new neighbour may be meaner But in spite of that just go

I hope for, but with reserve A new joy I can preserve

Other entrants I'd especially like to mention included Corinne Huberman and Helen Cynthia Feldman.

Happy writing!