My Writers Club had our annual poetry competition adjudicated last evening. I had not put in an entry, so it was good just to listen to other people's work and the comments from the adjudicator.She had brought her own poetry pamphlets for us to see and quoted from 'Ode Less Travelled' by Stephen Fry, a great book that is a must for aspiring poets. This is so timeous, as I'm off to the Stanza poetry Festival at St. Andrews tomorrow and will hear wonderful poets and lectures on Lord Byron and other great poets. The Lit scene is so rich here. Aren't we lucky to live in these times when words on a page can transport us away from the credit crunch and other real problems?
Here is a sentimental poem of mine, a shortened version :
Glasgow my adopted city,
Rainy, boggy, soggy.
The dear green place, minty
Sweet, the pubs make me groggy.
Glasgow my city, my home
Rained on, freshened, moist blue.
Victorian blonde sandstone, shiny new
Welcomes all with warmth so true.
Sorry to inflict my poem on you but I love the simple emotion that my city evokes in me.
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