This moning's meeting was as full of chat, laughter and friendliness as ever, even though we were a little lower in numbers. It didn't matter! The poems were very good and they sparked a lot of thoughtful discussion and then off we went in all kinds of directions! Brilliant.

I had apologies from. Catherine, Carol, Vicky, Nancy, Sue Jones and Ralph.

Linda, Harry and Felicity have decided to leave the group.

I read Foxglovewise by Ange Mlinko and Shuggie by Jon Miller

Jane read Yorkshire Pride and The Ballad of Derek and Sue both by Chris Burdon

Chris read Smiling Is Infectious by Spike Milligan and Remembering Shirley Valentine by Daniel Denton

Irene read Spring Fever by Al Alvarez and the sonnet, I, being born a woman and distressed by Edna St Vincent Millay

Nora read one of her own poems, Bempton Cliffs (included below)

Lynn read The Season of Phantasmal Peace by Derek Walcott and Franz Marc's Blue Horses by Mary Oliver

Sue L read The Darkling Thrush and The Oxen by Thomas Hardy.

If you weren't able to come along today, could you please bring your five pounds for Nancy next time?

See you then!!!!!!!!

Nora has kindly given her permission fo us to read her poem again. Here it is.

Bempton Cliffs

Massive chalky cliffs

Apparent towers of strength

Standing firm against the sea

Majestic in the sunlight

White horses crashing against the rock

Dirty foaming water swirling away

Wave after wave

A continual upsurge and down surge

Gradually wearing away the land

A slow engulfing process

I wonder, if I stared long enough

Would these waves engulf the discord in me?

But no! Too many distractions

The cliffs-

A haven for seabirds

Nests crowded on narrow ledges

Birds sitting on untidy, meagre nests

Exerting their authority

Protecting their territory

Birds appearing from nowhere

Holes in the cliffs

Soaring in circular paths

A seemingly aimless flight

What of their purpose?

What of their destination?

Birds disappearing into crevices

Birds skimming over the water

Keeping an eye out for today’s meal.

Too much to occupy the mind and the eye

When you are so close

But perhaps too far to reach.

Nora Boyle

I very much liked this poem, cracking last two lines don't you think?