Heather Moulson

A Fag Villanelle

Hello Poetry Lovers

I thought we’d start the week with a bit of fun. Now I don’t know what possessed me, but I wrote a villanelle about cigarettes. Almost a taboo subject now but so irresistible.

I usually find villanelles very hard but this one took me 10 minutes to write while I was having my morning coffee, so it just goes to show you.

Anyway, it’s just a bit of a laugh so do read on;

Fags Villanelle

Please give me back my fags

You’re a scrubber and a thief

Rifling through our handbags

You really should be wearing tags

Or turning over a new leaf

And please give me back my fags

From the sweet shop you nick mags

From Tesco, joints of beef

You’re just like the other slags

So please go and nick more swag

To be honest, it will be a relief

When you give me back my fags

Remember it was Rothmans fags

Don’t hide behind that sheath

And get some more carrier bags

You didn’t do it? Good grief!

It was your boyfriend Keith

But you were still behind the blags

So please give me back my fags

H Moulson 2021

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Any villanelles, or other forms of poetry, do send in. Have a good week

The Paradelle Challenge

Hello Poetry Lovers

To my delight, the lovely poet Trisha Broomfield has accepted my paradelle challenge and has come up with a corker.

To be honest, I think it’s better than its source of inspiration. A lovely poignant and clever piece, thank you so much Trisha. Truly talented. Do read on;

Paradelle

You’ve left me and I’m all alone

Your cheating heart now turned to stone

You’ve left me and I’m turned to stone

Your cheating heart now all alone

My life moves on while you hang back

It emphasises all you lack

My life emphasises all you lack

It moves on while you hang back

I hope you will find contentment soon

Your emotions tugged by the full moon

I hope your emotions will find contentment soon,

You, tugged by the full moon.

You’ve left me; I’m tugged by the full moon

and my life moves on, while you hang back

your cheating , heart, it emphasises all you lack

now you, all alone, turned to stone

I hope your emotions will find

contentment soon.

09/09/2021Trisha Broomfield

Wasn’t that a beautiful piece of writing?! Really well done, Trisha. Please keep them coming.

A paradelle, PL’s, is a very hard poetry form and I’m still at the coalface with mine. If you think you can take on a paradelle, please send it in…

Thank you for visiting, Poetry Lovers, tune in same time, same channel……

The Paradelle

Hello Poetry Lovers

Discovering American poet Billy Collins, in a second-hand poetry book sale, I was drawn in by his honest style. Not to mention the paradelle form that he used for the following poem.

Has anyone tried this?! What a swine to do! Basically, there are 4 stanzas with the last two lines having to use their above words precisely, then the fourth stanza has to use all the words of the poem.

Confused? – you will be. Read on…

Paradelle for Susan

I remember the quick, nervous bird of your love.

Always perched on the thinnest, highest branch.

Thinnest love, remember the quick branch.

Always nervous, I perched on your highest bird the.

It is time for me to cross the mountain.

And find another shore to darken with my pain.

Another pain for me to darken the mountain.

And find the time, cross my shore, to with it is to.

The weather warm, the handwriting familiar.

Your letter flies from my hand into the waters below.

The familiar waters below my warm hand.

Into handwriting your weather flies you letter the from the.

I always cross the highest letter, the thinnest bird.

Below the waters of my warm familiar pain,

Another hand to remember your handwriting.

The weather perched for me on the shore.

Quick, your nervous branch flew from love.

Darken the mountain, time and find was my into it was

with to to.

Billy Collins

Wonderful, but difficult, although I know a certain talented poet has come up with (a frankly better) one. I’m still at the coalface, and I don’t like to admit defeat.

Okay, PL’s, I challenge you to come up with one of these. In fact, I demand it.

Thanks for visiting, Poetry Lovers Stay tuned, same time, same channel

All Seasons

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, the weather may be balmy but I’m certainly turning out my drawers and sorting out my winter clothes. Isn’t it lovely when seasons turn?

September to many of us is like a new start. That’s why I was inspired by Sharron Green’s beautiful poem below. It says so much about the nature that surrounds us and how we should appreciate it.

Thank you for this, Sharron, a real corker Do read on;

A Taste for all Seasons

Spring sends us all a-spin with a fresh spurt.
From slumberland, new life aspires to grow.
Slim saplings through the frost with danger flirt,
and tulips pop up trumpeting ‘Hello!’

Summer’s slick swallows swiftly swoop and soar.
Seeds sown, now grown, sway softly in the breeze.
Butterflies bid blue buddleia ‘Bonjour!’
Chic sunflowers seize kisses from the bees.

Autumn blazes forth to wild ovations.
Its incandescent energy ignites.
Each leaf’s decease draws soulful incantations.
Flamboyant flair incites a raw delight.

Winter cloaks the sky in clotted clouds.
It’s crystals form a fragile filigree.
The Earth is enveloped in icy shrouds.
While nature rests, this perfect pause is key.

If you want every day to be win win
Be fully in the season you are in.

@rhymes_n_roses 2021

Wasn’t that such a beautiful piece? Such detail that defined the seasons we live through Thank you, Sharron, and keep them coming ….

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon with more poetry adventures……

Milestones a Cotswold Home

Hello Poetry Lovers

before I set sail on holiday, I really wanted to post this touching poem from clever poet, Trisha Broomfield

A strong and poignant recollection of a childhood home. I remember longing to live in the country, and after reading this, I realise I still do.

I also had the pleasure of Trisha face to face last week at the Roger McGough Finalists Competition. Hence the lovely selfie above. What a day that was….

Read on;

Milestones a Cotswold Home

Four cottages knocked into one

the ghost inhabited number two

only mum could see, moving to one side

to let it pass each time they met

in the doorway to the dining room

the hall was twenty-two yards long

mum said, as long as the cricket pitch

but we were too young to care

as long as we had our own rooms

one each with a window seat

horses clip clopped down the road

the farmer next door kept pigs

and mud, school was an uphill struggle

and a huddle around a round fire,

Royal Scots washed down with warm school milk

we watched, under duress, Yuri Gagarin

his flight a milestone in the race to space

while swinging our legs, bored.

Then out to play, so much room to run

so little chance of reaching a beach.

Trisha Broomfield 2021

Wasn’t that a beautiful piece? Real images of childhood and intricate detail. Thank you so much, Trisha. Please keep them coming.

Going on a boat this week. I’ll keep you posted Thanks for tuning in …….

The Sealey Challenge

Hello PL’s

I’d love to talk more about The Sealey Challenge that Dobby and I took on in August, where we read 31 pamphlets, one for each day of the month (I’m sure you worked that one out for yourself!)

August is a dull and grim month for me normally, full of nothing. At least I don’t have the children off school anymore as they’re grown up now, but it can still stretch ahead. However, that wasn’t the case for August 2021.

Anyway, these are some of the wonderful books me and Dobby took on. If I’ve left out anyone’s, forgive me.

Also there were so many more I would have liked to have covered, but time amazingly, ran out. I tried to focus on women the most but I slipped a few male poets in;

I’m so glad I featured works that were very special to me;

It was an absorbing journey, PL’s. I recommend you get onboard in 2022….

Thanks for tuning in and sharing my journey, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back real soon…..

Dorothy Parker

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, Dobby and I had a wonderful August doing the Sealey Challenge. Reading one poetry pamphlet or collection a day for the whole month. More exacting than it first appears, but we learnt an awful lot from it.

I think Dobby’s learning curve was to stay under the bed next August, but I was enlightened to new and wonderful poetry.

Dorothy Parker’s collection, I recall I purchased at the National Theatre bookshop in the summer of ‘85. When I really grew as a person, and learnt about so many new and exciting cultural things.

I’d always adored Dorothy Parker and her witty style. When I devoured her short stories, there were tears of laughter and something else so much darker. However, I didn’t look at her poetry until 31st August 2021, so it’s a mere gap of 36 years but better late than never.

Here’s one of her many wonderful poems, I do recommend a look at her work;

The False Friends

They laid their hands upon my head.

They stroked my cheek and brow;

And time could heal a hurt, they said,

And time could dim a vow.

And they were pitiful and mild

who whispered to me then,

“The heart that breaks in April, child,

Will mend in May again.”

Oh, many a mended heart they knew.

So old they were, and wise.

And little did they have to do

To come to me with lies!

Who flings me silly talk of May

Shall meet a bitter soul;

For June was nearly spent away

Before my heart was whole.

Wasn’t that so beautiful? And I’m about to enjoy more of them. Funny how a book yellowing in your bookshelf suddenly comes back into life.

Thanks for reading, PL’s and stay tuned for more poetry shenanigans.

More Beauty Spots….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome back to the Beauty Spot. Wonderful and clever poet Trisha Broomfield has risen to my challenge and presented us with a beautiful piece titled Make Up.

This is so so poignant, and has such a strong subtext. Thank you so much, Trisha.

Do read on

Make Up

Mum faced the world wearing her face

A confidence painted on, red lipstick the

Key, wearing a touch brittle at times.

Eye shadow blue, spit on mascara curled on

Underneath was her wobbly self

Putting on a show, hoping it would reach inside.

24/08/2021Trisha Broomfield

Wasn’t that just wonderful?! Keep them coming, Trisha and other PL’s.

Tune in real soon for more poetry antics…..

Beauty Spot

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome to our beauty spot section.

Adoring any form of cosmetic, I’ve tried to sum up a life-long hankering for something intangible. And I don’t think I’m the only one by any means.

The word beauty promises something so elusive, anyway do read on…..

Made Up

Mum went out the house with a

smudge of lipstick and face powder

Sister would do some self-mutilating

eye-liner, and spit on cake mascara

I longed for false eyelashes and baby

pink blusher

But toner took off half my skin

loose powder granules swum in my handbag

Mascara on my pillow

traces of red lipstick on a tea cup

Tan soaked tissues on the dressing

table – all slovenly attempts at beauty

Foundation only good for covering

love bites – and tears.

I wasn’t going to find my other face.

One that other’s put on so easily.

Glamour would never be my friend

destined to stand in the beauty playground

all alone

Until I discovered bronzer!

H Moulson 2020

I hoped you like this piece, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon for more poetry shenanigans.

More Nursery Rhymes with Dobby….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Jetting off for a couple of days so I’ve left this site in Dobby’s capable paws. She has come up with more nursery rhyme variations. Do read on, and I’ll see you soon

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

my black cat

went to bed on my best mat.

One claw off and one claw on.

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

my black cat.

Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake

Fishmonger man.

Get me a sardine as

fast as you can.

Pat it and prick it

and mark it with D.

Put it in the oven for only Me.

Weren’t they great?! Excellent work, Dobby. I’m actually getting the cold shoulder because she’s seen my suitcase but hopefully I’ll get round her soon and then we’ll be back with more poetry fun and games real soon…..