Tiny Spring Poems - part 1

Writing to a time limit from prompts

10 minutes! 10 minutes to write a poem, and then publish it!

That was the gauntlet, thrown down with gentle encouragement by the wonderful

Beth Kempton

. I had always thought of poetry as requiring hours of pondering, maybe some hill walking and staring into the middle distance with the honourable expression of a tortured soul.

but no

Poetry writing can, and does, begin in many ways. I love Beth’s challenges. The way I feel provoked to create, and at the same time mentored and held. There is no judgement, only love.

Ten minutes to write a poem certainly pushed me out of my comfort zone at first. But, as with anything, the more you do it, the more those muscles are flexed and the stronger they become.

I liken it to my morning pages, my daily journalling ritual of writing without stopping to think, letting the subconscious mind pour forth onto the page. In ten minutes there is no time for looking up clever words or rhyming couplets. You work with what you’ve got. And it’s certainly interesting to see what comes out.

I love these challenges for getting me out of a rut, for seeing a way in which to interpret a word that I might not have done if I’d had time to think for longer.

It’s one technique amongst many that I have explored on workshops with other renowned poets, but it’s a good one.

It’s been a busy week, so I’ve batched mine rather than doing one a day.

I’m posting the first one on here to my free subscribers, but as I promised, the others will be for my paying subscribers only. I would love to share more with you, and I would love to share the many other beautiful ways of finding your words so I’m toying with the idea of a course.

I’ll let you know.

Meanwhile, here it is.

Written in under 10 minutes and completely unedited.

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                                                    IF

If I reached behind me,
and didn't look
       didn't peep,
would your hand, plump
and trusting
its entirety, matching my palms
                    dimensions,
slip into mine?
Would that smile of reassurance,
 be shared across our faces?
That little hand
So far behind me now.
The touch is never forgotten.
So I shan't look
      I shan't peep.
And your hand will always be there.

I hope you enjoyed that. Please  do share or comment.

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