Writers' group: Nan

Nan is the wicked one

who surprises newcomers 

whenever she reads.

It's not that she uses 

naughty words, or blasphemes;

it's her thoughts that are naughty,

her soul that's irreverent.

(More truly reverent 

than many a churchgoer,

she likes the Lord — she's just

not in awe. Her humorous tales

are in fact moral fables.)

And she's the effortless 

prize-winner:
in competitions always 

commended at least.

Underneath it all,

she appreciates

loving-kindness.



[Poem #102]

Writers' group: Anne

I once told her

I thought she'd write something

important one day,

or at least that she could.

Did that make her fearful,

give her too much

to begin to live up to? 

For months after that 

she found no words to write.

We missed her acerbic wit.

But she kept coming,

listened as others read,

offered feedback.

Then sudden fantastic beings 

poured across her page, strangers

revealing themselves

to her fascinated scribe.



[Poem #101]

Writers' group: Helen

Her smile is always

the first thing I see

as she enters the room.

She exudes a cosy kindness that belies 

the cool, precise, administrative intellect.

Now she is all about family.

When she can't come, it's because

she is baby-sitting grandchildren

(not the only one to do that, but

the one who does it most often).

And she writes about family,

exploring generations past

whose lives enthral like an epic novel.



[Poem #100]