Ad Infinitum (found between Westbury and Salisbury)
The next station will be
Salisbury.
This is a
Great Western service to
Salisbury.
We will be calling at
Salisbury.
The next station will be
Salisbury.
This is a
Great Western service to
Salisbury.
We will be calling at
Salisbury.
We are now approaching
Salisbury,
where this service will
terminate.
Passengers for
Southampton
change to the
rail replacement bus.
Linda Rushby 24 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
All those faces
in all those places.
If we met again,
what would you
think of me?
And I of you?
The randomness of life,
the circles of chance
that made our paths
converge and
separate again.
The words that drift around
the cafes where I’ve sat
and eavesdropped
other people’s conversations,
the songs that play
on jukeboxes and radios.
Memories that
accumulate then fade again.
Other people’s lives
that touch mine
then move on again.
All those faces,
all those places.
23 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
Up the Hill and Round the Bend
Wake up feeling lost and meaningless,
every little thought a source of shame.
Sun creeps through the window
telling you to go and find the morning.
Stumble round the room,
you cannot find your clothes,
you wonder why you bother, even here.
Outside, the traffic rumbles by
but up the street a little way
there must be something worth the walking.
Up the hill and round the bend,
you can’t but think
the view is better there,
there will be some surprise,
and so you go
a little further.
And every bend
will bring you to another sight,
a patch of bluebells;
bursting buds on hoary branches;
another hill, another bend.
Up the hill and round the bend,
the sea below;
the moiling waves
are never still’
and up ahead,
another hill, another bend.
Up the hill and round the bend,
closer to the gulls
whirling on their crazy paths,
now above you, now below
and up ahead,
another hill, another bend.
And so it goes,
there’ll always be a struggle
to get up the hill
and round the bend
but today you saw:
the crashing waves,
the red cliffs,
a patch of violets,
new leaves upon old trees
and the day has barely started.
Linda Rushby 22 April 2022
Dawlish, Devon
Ooops, sorry, a bit delayed. This was written yesterday, but I was travelling and didn’t get a chance to post.
I’ve also just written one for today, but about to rush off for breakfast and may not get round to posting till later.
Poems
Poems
scribbled in pencil
in the margins of
su doku books;
on scraps of paper,
and unfolded envelopes.
On train journeys,
or sitting in cafes,
overlooking the sea,
or staring at pot plants,
and watching passers-by.
Tapped into
the notepad function
of smart phones,
or sent as a text,
to myself.
And sometimes even
typed on a laptop
on the kitchen table
or my old PC
by my study window
overlooking the street.
Poems
can come from anywhere,
and go to anywhere
(or nowhere at all).
I am just
the conduit.
Linda Rushby 21 April 2022
#NapoWriMo
Time slips away from me,
I do not see it pass,
and all the things I meant to do
remain undone,
or else, when I inspect them
I see that they need doing all again.
When I sit down
to write a poem,
a thousand aeons pass before my mind
and flow out on the screen.
But when I, blinking,
come back to this moment
and turn to look around,
I see the world
has not been changed one jot,
except for the settling
of still more dust.
Linda Rushby 20 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
If you found an answer,
here in this sunny morning
when so many other things
grab for your attention,
if you found an answer,
what would be the question?
Linda Rushby 19 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
Early sunlight gilds your drowsy fur,
my small companion, sleeping by my feet.
Old friend, I’ve known you all your life,
beginning as two members of a family,
our lives diverged for some time in the middle,
when I set out to find a different way,
but here we are now, reunited
growing old together.
Your span has been a fraction of my own:
I saw you newborn, staggering blindly
to your mother’s teat,
her tiny double, prettiest of them all,
and now you are the elder, in my care.
I hold the power of life and death for you,
I try to hold you safe, to gauge your pain,
I hope your life is not a burden,
try to show you how much you are loved,
until the day when I must let you go.
Linda Rushby 18 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo #Cats
This poetry month,
I’ve done three and a half years
and I don’t remember
it being a problem.
But now I’m not sure.
I say I can’t force them,
they come if they want to,
but what if they don’t?
Some days it comes easy,
but others not so much,
should I keep on trying?
I feel like a fraud.
Three lines start with ‘But’ –
this does not sound convincing.
But the words have their own rules;
please don’t shoot their messenger.
Linda Rushby 17 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
Some poetic ideas that came to me but I didn’t write them down at the time so I’ve been trying to put them together into a poem for Good Friday, with the help of some photos taken on the day. Unfortunately, I found I hadn’t taken any of the exact view I remembered. Anyway, it was a lovely day and a pleasant walk with my daughter and grandkids.
West Sussex View
Red roofed farmhouse framed by trees,
backdrop of hills and a blue April sky
serenaded by skylarks.
Deer grazing and dozing in dappled shade,
picnic tables by a quiet river.
A vision of England.
Linda Rushby 15 April 2022
#NaPoWriMo
I managed two weeks,
quite consistently,
but missed the middle point.
Perhaps I should pretend
that this is not a failure,
because that is not the issue –
no success, no failure.
It’s simply a coincidence
that after fourteen days
I found that there were
more important things in life
than arbitrary targets,
and I didn’t just give up,
run out of steam,
lose interest
and inspiration.
Would that be
an insult to
potential readers?
Or just a
(rather unpoetic)
lie?
Linda Rushby 16 April 2022
Southsea Storytellers 