Poetry Prompt 4 - ‘Writing Desk’

August 1, 2008

In June of this year Charles Dickens’ writing desk and chair were sold for $850,000 at Christie’s auction house in London. It was the desk on which he wrote Great Expectations at his Gad’s Hill Place home in Higham, Kent.

With this in mind, the 4th Poetry Prompt is ‘Writing Desk’. Describe the area where you write your poetry, whether this is a computer work station, a wooden table or even prostrate upon the floor. What can you see from your desk? What is on your table? Is there an aroma like incense or the sea air? What about sounds, like children playing or a clock ticking? What do you write? Create a poem which brings all these things together and helps to create a vivid image in the reader’s imagination.

When you have completed the poem, post the direct link in the ‘auto-links’ box below and also make a comment in the comment’s section. Before or following this, take time over the coming week to visit other entries from fellow poets and add a friendly comment or two regarding what you felt about their poem. This last part is vital if we are all to gain value from this exercise.

Next Thursday evening* I will create a round-up of my personal favourite pieces but remember, this is not a competition. If you need any help or advice, then either contact me or pose a question in the comments section and I’m sure someone will be available to give you a hand.

Enjoy!

*I would like to briefly apologise for not completing a weekly round-up yesterday. Due to all-day computer problems I had, followed by a local power cut, my time was drastically shortened. Next week’s round-up will continue as normal.

Posted by Edward | Filed Under Weekly Poetry Prompt | 17 Comments

Kent Earthquake of April 2007

August 1, 2008

Pleasant quiescence, filled my dreams
As sunlight seeped through the window,
Placing warm shafts of chiffon streams
Upon rested forehead aglow.

Awareness, vague; consciousness slurred.
Contentedness, a slow pavane
Rolling as waves gently demurred
To the onset of daylight’s scan.

Awoken! Fear! an implosion
Of senses wretched with panic;
Walls shook from the explosion
Near! Loud! Possibly volcanic!

Then calm, a tease to the jarred soul,
Mocking tensed muscles perplexed;
Car alarms cried out distressed, the toll
Rang strong of screeching seagulls vexed.

Frozen, currents of confusion
Rippled down the length of my spine,
Reality or illusion
Both sealed facets yet to define.

The neighbours’ doors opened, wide eyes
Scrutinizing the street unchanged,
Finding comforting smiles arise
Through nervous pleased greetings exchanged.

Tortured sea its secret revealed
Looks silently towards the coast;
Centuries old memories yield
To the Earth’s perpetual boast.

(Written shortly after experiencing the earthquake)

Posted by Edward | Filed Under Edward's Daily Poetry Blog | 2 Comments