Writings and Witterings


Around Four

03:44 lorries trundle past
03:49 someone in the bathroom
03:50 get up, close windows
03:51 taste breath, drink water
03:55 clean teeth, take para
04:00 lights out, settle down
04:20 get up, make tea
04:21 moth fluttering in lamp
04:23 drink tea, hear lorries
04:25 write this, settle down
04:26 damn, awake now

Polly Robinson © 2014



around the waterways
of Worcester.
No bodies fall in the wash
to be swept downstream,
chill, clammy, broken,
to pass through the estuary
at Bristol, into the briny,
cold currents rushing them further
to the Atlantic Ocean
and across to visit friends
in America.

Polly Robinson © 2014

For Gabriella’s first post in Poetics – Travel Poetry at dVerse poets pub


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


To Olivia

Ouch! A nasty fall!
Such an awful trip!
Poor bruised knee
and blood, drip, drip.
A blue and blooming bruise,
a loose tooth you didn’t chip;
shaken up, but brave,
just a small and quivering lip.

Assembly today
with a plaster on your knee.
Your very first group swim,
which you won magnificently!
An internet safety play,
then a friend came round to tea.
You’ll mend, you’re a soldier,
you have courage, Mum, and me.

Polly Robinson © 2014


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



The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin
The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin


Today’s the day,
today’s the day they die.
In every line,
carved anguish
on fine-boned faces,
in bowed heads,
starved slump of shoulders,
nooses around necks,
the way city keys
in hot hands
held against hurting head,
today’s the day.
Today’s the day they die.

Calais besieged,
the envoys’ walk,
sandals tied with string
shuffling through dust,
as grit cuts;
rope pares skin.

Death imminent,
they stumble to the square
as yet unaware,
today, they’ll be saved
by a claim,
an omen,
an infant yet to be born.

Polly Robinson © 2014

For dVerse poets prompt: Rilke was influenced by Rodin when Rilke served as secretary to him. The artist greatly influenced the young poet. Check out Rodin sculptures on the Internet – find one that inspires you and write to it in the above way