Innscribing

The Inn Scribers

Among the foremost writing groups in Essex

INN SCRIBING

Some small piece

worked over with a cloth

that reeks of metaphor,

spat upon and rubbed with

alliteration oil,

may glimmer with the almost gold

of polished brass.

Lesley James

Inn Scribing

THE SCHOOL REUNION

An empty table:

the debris of a school reunion -

liquid rubies glistening

in half empty glasses.

It was a good evening,

the first time we’d met

since we left so long ago.

Much has changed in our lives,

yet nothing has altered.

Fat Simon is still fat and bossy,

Romeo Brown still pursues

all blondes in skirts.

I marvel at the stamina

and capacity of old Brian

to sink his drinks

whilst I, sipping spring water,

still remain colourless,

aimlessly pursuing hopeless dreams.

Verica Peacock

TRUE LOVE

If true love be said to last forever,

The eternity should give ample chance

To judge such prolonged time together,

Measuring the stages of romance.

At first encounter, all is mystery.

Imagination fills the blankest page.

Replaced by one’s personal history;

Misunderstandings, laughter, tears and rage.

From just two, more may materialise;

Extended family, extended home.

Setbacks, plus hopes and dreams to realise.

Future generations yet to come.

True love accumulates such stores of wealth,

To spend, not rend, with joy and not by stealth.

John Hyman

MY ‘USBAND

My ‘usband, he’s such a generous chap

And gives me five shillings a week,

He never begrudges it, never a scrap

‘Cos I’m worth it, he says, with a tweek.

So what do I do for this handsome amount?

Do I curtsey, or whimper or shriek?

No, I get out my book and tot up the account,

Saying nothing, for I’m not indiscreet.

Yes, I’m his darling, but I come at a price,

And the price is five shillings a week,

Come Christmas, it’s ten bob a week, and that’s very nice

But exhausting—hard work isn't cheap.

We’re always harmonious, never a clash,

No feuding or that kind of stuff,

So long as he’s generous and gives me his cash,

I’ll pretend I’m a good, honest wife.

Noreen Tingle

DREAMS

Some people believe that by studying our dreams we may pierce the underbelly of our thoughts and anxieties and that by analysing them, disturbing matters from our past may be explained. But what of the other types of dream, those that seem to hold premonitions or tell of far-seeing events that some people lay claim to? We have all heard of people forecasting the future by analysing their dreams. I wonder if this type of dream can be otherwise explained?

I know a true story of a couple who, like millions of others, lived an ordinary life and laid no more claim to perceptive powers than the next man.

They were lying in bed at night. At about one-thirty when they’d been sleeping for about two hours, the woman sat up in bed in a trance-like state and began relating an horrifying account of a tragedy. She told of walking up a staircase or escalator in a tube station, the escalator had stopped and she was in a tunnel shaped structure. The walls were a mass of flames which were roaring down and, to her horror, she felt trapped. The couple were now fully awake, both feeling slightly shocked. They discussed the dream then went back to sleep.

Imagine their amazement the next day, when the news unfolded of the Kings Cross fire; it had happened at the same time the woman had her dream.

This happened to me and my wife…

Jack Culshaw

Lesley James The Secretary

The Inn Scribers

57 Fesants Croft

HARLOW Essex

CM20 2JU

Tel: 01279 438486

E-mail: lesleymjames@talktalk.net

E V

T H

There’s nothing in the

World more pleasing

To me, than the smell

And the sight and the sounds of the sea

Sometimes I wish that I’d been born male - then I’d be a sailor - free to set sail. But

Here I sit in my room up high, watching all types of ships pass me by! There goes the

Pilot, another cruise ship is coming. This Spanish port is so full of life, it’s humming!

Only Pearl Harbour is bigger than this one! So much activity, work never done! The

British, the Germans, the Americans, too, visit this port to name but a few! They step

Off their liners excited and keen. Will return home again and describe what they’ve

Seen. ‘The World’ is my favourite cruise liner of all, it’s so vast, so long and ever

So tall! For two million pounds one can buy a fine home and travel the world -

From Iceland to Rome. Home on this liner would be splendid indeed, but I

Know in my heart it’s not for me. I only dream of a grand life at sea. I sit

On my balcony scanning the bay, maybe, just maybe I’ll come back some

Day, then a wonderful liner pulls out to sea and I feel so at peace as it

Draws into night, I’m warm and content at the marvellous sight.

Jean Audritt

DREAMLIKE

Dreamlike you move in space

Rotating on unseen axis

The birthplace of the human race

The beauty of eternity, this is.

What harm will come to you

From ignorance and corrupt greed

Great Sphere of such beauty, too,

As you silently answer our need?

Swathes of clouds on the orb glisten

Wrapping in mystery, the land of the free?

Corruption and greed, we need to listen

With beams of light we will come to see.

Mary McKinven Drummond

THE PAINTER OF HERTS

A licentious young lass from St Ippollytts

Said “Love-bodypaint me! You could stipple bits!”

So he dabbed and embossed her,

He sealed and he glossed her.

His decorative art brought them trippollitts!

Barry Adams

LAMENT FOR A COMPUTER STUD

He was red-hot on a spreadsheet

He used to laugh at risk!

But a bug got to his hard drive;

Now it’s just a floppy disk!

Barry Adams