Across the six years I was living and working in New York I was most fortunate to harvest a rich vein of  stories. So many stories...  My friend, Linda once shared a story about growing up in the city and enduring the somewhat oppressive summer nights.  That story became the focus of a poem I included in the 2016 anthology, 'I Bet There's No Broccoli On The Moon.'  Writers and poets are storytellers... Summer Night Escape On those long ago Summer evenings, The children of New York Dragged their mattresses Onto the fire escape In search of  A zephyr  Of cool air And a chance to dream. No air con back then, Just a sweat box Apartment. So they crept through  Open windows Buoyed by hope Of finding relief  Slumbering Above the street. Alan j Wright It is yet again, Poetry Friday and our host on this occasion is Linda Mitchell at Another Word Edgewise Linda presents a collection of quotes she hopes might springboard fresh poetic pearls from her readers....

 A chance conversation about eating healthy foods delivered me back to the bountiful garden my father created all those years ago, ensuring we ate well. Fruit and vegetables were plentiful and varied in our humble household. It was economically and gastronomically a sound investment. Garden to plate was seamless. Sometimes the fresh produce never made it to the plate. My favourite fruit trees in the mini orchard were the nectarines.   That's where this juicy little poem finds its essential spark in a memory regained. A conversation delivered a moment in time, now captured in words. Nectarines are not in season at present, but they are front of mind for me at least. Anything can be the focus of a poem-even nectarines. Poet's respond. A Morning Bounty Of Ripe Nectarines   I heard the footsteps on the back veranda Then I heard the fly screen door swing shut Wrapped in the turned up hem of his old jumper My father nursed a bounty of freshly picked nectarines Plucked from...

I came upon Chrissie Gittins' poem, 'The Powder Monkey' while reading Michael Rosen's impressive anthology- 'Michael Rosen's A to Z -The Best Children's Poetry From Agard To Zephniah,' Puffin, 2009. I was so taken by it, I felt compelled to do some research regarding the poem's origin. It turns out the poem formed from a conversation the poet had with a friend. Chrissie Gittins, the poet visited HMS Victory in Portsmouth, U K and learnt about the young children, often orphans swept off the streets of England, who worked on eighteenth century sailing ships as powder monkeys. They kept the artillery on the gun decks stocked with gunpowder. She was shocked to discover that before 1794 children as young at six went to sea. She visited the Caird Library at the National Maritime Museum to research further. The  resultant docupoem  won the Belmont Poetry Prize for individual children’s poems. This was especially significant as the shortlist was drawn up by...

Last week attention returned to docupoetry in some of my discussion with fellow poets. That prompted me to return to the poetry vault and unearth this docupoem paying tribute to the brave and fearless, Amelia Earhart.  Docupoetry puts a bit of twist on information text. It contains a dose of fact and wraps it in a protective layer of supportive words. I read recently that marine explorers may have located the crash site of Amelia fatal flight. It currently remains as an enduring mystery. Let's take flight with the brave and daring Amelia as she ventures out to cross the Atlantic ocean, solo.   Amelia’s Aeronautical Achievement In a flight filled with danger wild, icy weather And a broken altimeter Amelia took off early one morning From Newfoundland In her Lockheed Vega -a frantic Atlantic flight unfolded. A copy of a local newspaper tucked under her arm Confirming her departure date And sharing local news far and wide. -No fake news for Amelia.   ...

 During the month of May, I set myself a personal writing challenge of writing a poem each day based on historical events that took place on a particular May date.  The project delivered a number of documentary style poems (docupoetry). My previous docupoetry poems have been somewhat lengthy. These latest poems are shorter. I think time constraints may have contributed to this outcome. Writing projects /challenges are fun. They invigorate the mind. They reveal a lot. Here are two docu-poems  focusing on events in the lives of two disparate historical figures. The Last Word   A decade of faithfully recorded thoughts A life captured in diaries Rich in detail and scope Reached a premature ending When the writings of Samuel Pepys Hit a wall of darkness.   The final entry The last word Inked for posterity.   With eyesight failing And shadows advancing across the page His pen, he reluctantly laid to rest.   The writer found himself Out of sight ...

A new school year has commenced here in Australia. Schools, nationwide, are facing enormous challenges, confronting the headwinds of this continuing pandemic. No doubt young learners are keen to find themselves in the social setting of the classroom once more, so we must hope that all goes well for school communities everywhere. Fingers crossed.  Bravo to teachers world-wide, who continue to display incredible professionalism and commitment in the face of the continuing need to adapt their delivery of vital education. Here are some fresh, new school poems, a small gift of sorts. Some poetry to launch into the start of the year. A year wrapped in hope for lighter, brighter times.   We Start Out, Fresh And Shiny The sun comes up On the first day Of a new school year We walk through the school gate School shoes tight,   shiny and new Uniform fresh and clean Our faces full of smiles And kissed by the summer. Friends greet us Stories swapped The corridors...