Doorway Writing Group January 2018
A quiet session to begin 2018. But small starts are okay – they allow for growth!
A number of guests and volunteers engaged with this month’s ‘jobs old and new’ word search and a fun word puzzle involving finding one word which can combine (as a prefix) with three other words. That’s hard to describe – let’s find an example. An interesting one from this month’s selection would be: card/present/suit (answer = birthday). Overall it seemed to provide a nice level of challenge and some good conversation starters (or story prompts?) so we’ll continue to use some of these throughout the year. Many thanks to Macmillan Cancer Support from whose 2017 fundraising challenge I borrowed this puzzle (and here’s hoping the actual participants managed to raise plenty of money for this good cause!)
Sharing the writing table with some avid jigsaw completers (K in particular) working on a dog-themed puzzle, gave rise to some nice memories about dogs we know and have known: K and I found that we’d both had mischievous little black and tan Jack Russell crosses when we were younger.
A couple of recent poems to round off then and wishing you an inspiring, thought-provoking and heart-warming January!
The grandson’s come to visit
I can see his car through my door
Old Sid shuffled down
To the shop in town
There’ll be tea and biscuits galore
Then they’ll watch a soap on the telly
And maybe play a game
Then a bite to eat
Gramper’s favourite sweet
And Sid’ll forget Joe’s name
And Joe’ll give Grampers a Christmas scarf
And Grampers’ll do a slow twirl
And have a puff
On his favourite stuff
And Joe’ll be texting his girl
And then he’ll give Grampers a fond little hug
And promise to come again soon
And Sid’ll just snooze
Through his post—Christmas blues
And wait for the next blue moon
(a poem by D)
Her boyfriend sings of true love
And of roses which are red
Yours scowls at you and growls at you
He’s sick inside his head.
She prances and she dances
He caresses her in bed
But your boyfriend beats you black and blue
You wish that he was dead.
When his eyes are full of malice
And there’s venom in his voice
And he restrains your every movement
Puts chains round every choice
It sucks to hear her cooing,
Turtle-doving tales of bliss.
‘Cause you wanted and you waited
And your life has come to this.
(a poem by D)