Reading for Members Thoughts

For Poetry Day Thursday 8th October 2015

The York Beggar

The Vale of York lay shadowed in its own mist as we left the train

Passing through fields and villages in sunshine a mere hour from home

A day out to see the ceramics to inspire and give confidence

First to coffee passing by piazza express to find a local café

Only four seatings coloured cakes made with toppings of care and swirl

One type coffee just fine deep tasteful and warming

Laughing and chatting we sat our fill another cup why not

Down the street to cross for the park sunshine shining through


He smiled at me lighting tired face not reaching blue eyes

On his head might once have been hair cut fair spiky modern

Mum or Dad at a time gave clothes fashionable now looking for soap

Each beggar as all hunched from human threats hoping for kindness

Leaning to side personal possessions tumbled inside grey plastic heap

Each sees him but walks bye not thinking of hunger or thirst

Some should care all should care never far from such disaster

Smile he smiled at me guilt never ending passing always here




I opened a book and in I strode

Now nobody can find me.

I've left my chair, my house, my road,

My town , my world behind me.

I'm wearing the cloak, I've slipped on the ring,

I've swallowed the magic potion

I've fought with a dragon, dined with a king,

And dived in a bottomless ocean.

I opened a book and made some friends.

I shared their tears and laughter

And followed their road with it's bumps and bends

to the happily ever after.

I finished my book and out I come.

The cloak can no longer hide me.

My chair and my house are just the same

But I have a book inside me.

Barbara Fiddy 1/10/14


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