Writings and Witterings


Mrs Smithfield Returns

Mrs Smithfield writes an ode
and, like a spy,
quietly slips
the blue lined pages
to me.

Her soft brown cardigan
– mohair –
sheds tiny pearlescent stud buttons.
A rural week amongst cruddy cows
and stupid sheep in summer sun,
hot on fields of hay,
yet cool, beautifully cool, gloriously cool
in shadowed woods.

Around a spitting campfire
crackling on parents’ night,
we sing Kumbayah to bemused
faces feasting on fish cakes with bread
and butter, swilling
mugs of hot sweet tea.
Jen and I made five hundred fish cakes:

‘Ridiculous,’ mother says.
‘How fantastic!’ says Mrs Smithfield.

Girls in dirndl skirts as Heidi,
or Cinderella
– a fancy dress competition –
others as two halves of a horse
made of chequered blankets
– no pearl buttons –
Jen and I win as chimney sweep
and chimney.

Mrs Smithfield quietly slips
the blue lined pages
with a faint crackle
and an apologetic air,
to me.

Polly Robinson © 2014

Chimney sweep and chimney with cat Acknowledgement to www.dreamstime.com

Chimney Sweep and Chimney with Cat.
Acknowledgement to http://www.dreamstime.com


9th May 1989

The lull before the storm.
The port before the call.
The knowledge of defeat.
The spirit’s downward fall.

A gradual repair.
A jigsaw in the round.
Retrieve the final piece.
Regain momentum found.

Rebuild a shattered dream.
Rekindle, light a spark.
Rehouse, and start again,
and you will leave your mark.

Polly Robinson © 1989

For dVerse Poetics—bringing light to darkness—from a smashing prompt by Anthony Desmond.


Tonight! A Perigee Moon – third

For the third time this summer…

Perigee Moon

Fulsome, blowsy
closer to earth,
closer to man,
fuller and fatter
than the seas.

See her grave face
through the lens
of perigee,
think of the aeons
of this moon
and gravity
pulling higher tides.
The aim: diversity.
As the community
makes moon water
an illusury
silver moon hangs.

Polly Robinson © 2014

How to make moon water:

Fill a glass bottle with a sealable lid with pure water on a full moon, new moon, or a moon that looks really different
Bless it with sage leaves to get rid of negative energy
Place it outside for the whole night
Bring it indoors before the sun comes up
Drink it! You could use it for your morning cuppa :)

With acknowledgement to: http://smokinchoices.wordpress.com

With acknowledgement to: http://smokinchoices.wordpress.com


Detective – Noir

Hardboiled, cynical,
the dick
in love.
His slinky girl
—in sequins
and seed pearls—
Hardboiled’s away
with the fairies;
the scent
of aftershave
is a dead giveaway.
Fresh shirt;
new jeans;
shaved clean.
She can tell
by the smirk
he’s got another skirt.
Who is she?
Slinky, glitter
by what she thinks,
what he
—has not detected—

Polly Robinson © 2014


The Making

You watch me awhile,
fascinated by the up
down silver flash,
blinking at
the clatter dash
of levers and pulleys
—applied force—
wheel circling,
my foot depressed
to create,
whirring away.
Now you play
with reels building
a tower or making a snake.
Your brothers, all rough
and tumble, disrupt
dust motes of cotton. The snake
becomes a chuffing train
circling the lino at speed
until it breaks apart
and interest is lost.
They go, to leave
just you with me
again, as I
cut, shape, and start
to finish—
whirr, whirr—

Polly Robinson © 2014

At dVerse, Gay asked for a poem to our own beat, a poem to represent our personal voice. The Making has been written both for Jo Bell’s 52 and for Gay’s prompt.