Read the poems submitted by Bookham residents

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National Poetry Day

Thank you so much to everyone that replied to this informal competition. Who knew we had such a lot of talented poets in Bookham?

Congratulations to our winner and runners up

In first place is Anna Smith with “The Greatest Blessing”
In second place was Ian Assersohn with “Care Home”
In third place was Kayhan Ozturk with his untitled poem

Joe Lee

I know a young man called Ben,
who now leaves the pub by 10…

The Grange Creative Writing Group

White Fluff over a rough sea
Gulls screech and glide on a breeze
A lone Wave-rider;
riding white-Horses.
A flame haired She-Fish
Swims with an ocean- jumper
Amongst the corridors
of the shark’s- castle,
a mesmerising floating- balloon.
A distant light from
the Ocean-watcher,
Scans the green and blue.

Val Cross

My friends are in square boxes
on the screen
As we ponder on the places
we have seen
Who knew that in our later years, as hair turns grey
and wrinkles come
We’d live like this
detached, alone when told
to stay inside our home

We’ve lost a year, precious time but so have others
as we know.
Young working mothers
trying hard to cope,
youngsters who missed school and hope
to be with friends
who like to mix in numbers that are more than six.

It is no year to be sixteen,
the prom, the parties
that might have been
The students under lock and key, missing so much
at university.

For working people,
young and older,
precarious times and hope there’s a shoulder….
….to cry on if they need it.

But hope and trust
we should have, in all those working in a lab
that somehow
they will find a way
to get us all back out one day
to live the life
that we once had
oh happy day we’ll be so glad
to hug our friends
and family dear.

And thank you all
who work so hard
to keep us healthy
you know who you are.
We thank you and we hope
one day
we’ll all look back
and be able to say
“That was a strange time,
it was one to miss”
as we play and dance
and hug and kiss.

Kayhan Ozturk

Boris on tele addressing the nation
Verbose and waffling with his odd intonation
Managing to complicate the base information
Stay home, wash your hands and watch your exhalation!!

With talk of “iron laws of geometrical progression”
Boris hopes to resonate with those in the pub on a session?
Rules aplenty to help and to fix
Like ‘no more than six’ and ‘no households to mix’
Unless more than thirty. In school. In a lesson.

Illogical bemusing it’s all very confusing
Freedoms and liberties people are losing
But please turn your thoughts to the ‘them’ and not ‘I’
Please do your best to try to comply
For whilst you may be fine the less lucky may die.

Ian Assersohn

He used to come each afternoon –
She doesn’t know his name –
And yet it brought her comfort
To see him, just the same.

But now he hasn’t been there since –
She can’t remember when.
She isn’t sure if she will ever
Hold his hand again.

One day he simply didn’t come.
They thought she’d understood:
No visitors for anyone –
It’s for the Public Good.

And back at home he quietly weeps
And chews his bitter bread,
Then climbs upstairs to stroke the frame
He keeps beside the bed.

My darling Jo
I’ve missed you so
Let’s fly to Rio next week
You wear your mini
I’ll wear my kilt
And we’ll go dancing cheek to cheek.

Do you remember that time,
When we didn’t have to rush out for quarter to nine.
Made forts out of cushions and boxes became cars,
Danced in the rain, gazed with a renewed awe at the stars.
Do you remember when we talked for hours,
Ran giggling under the sprinkler’s showers.
Watched films, read books, enjoyed just being,
Learned that art is all around us, if we open our hearts for seeing.
Do you remember when the seasons changed,
Through the storms and the golden sun, our rainbow heroes came.
We clapped for them, each passing week,
Emboldened by their strength, the darkness felt less bleak.
Do you remember when we lived in a world,
When the storybooks remained untold.
We were writing our own history books,
Swimming out of life’s rapids and in to babbling brooks.
Do you remember we found solace in the still,
Went walking in the woods, by the sea, overcame the highest hills.
We found time to be taught life’s one true lesson,
That simply being alive is the greatest blessing.

Farren Eyre

There was a young sailor named Bates
Who danced the fandango on skates.
But a fall on his cutlass
Has rendered him nutless,
And practically useless on dates.

The heart is a flower blowing in the wind
So potent like life in its prime
So colourful like the future
Yet so bent like the past
For there are no flowers in the dark
You and I are like a lake in the moonlight shining, shining as one
Blooming like a flower
Loving as the heart
For there are no flowers in the dark

The Grange Creative Writing Group

The sea sideway-walker pincers people;
A sweet sea-clicker jumps out of the wild waves;
Buried frosty feet in a golden-dust-sprinkling;
People wildly waving from the Captain’s- transport;
A precious pot of gold at the end of a colourful-arch;
Water-bikers zoom and zip over the surf.

Linda Ludlow

‘There’s no such thing as monsters’, that’s what my Mummy said
But I know that is just not true, ‘cos there’s one under my bed!
When I lie in bed at night, dark shadows all around,
I pull up the covers and lie so still, just waiting for the sound.
‘Squeek’ I hear the floor boards as he’s waking from his sleep.
I pull the covers over my head, too scared to take a peep.
‘Groan’ he must be stretching
‘Knock’ I think he’s banged his head!
Maybe I Should, take a peep?
But it fills me with such dread
But now I think about it
He must get lonely under there
He has no one to play with
No toys or teddy bear
No picture books or DVDs
Never sang to ‘Let It Go’
Oh you poor little monster
But now I really know
There ARE such things as monsters
But it’s not as scary as it seems
He makes noises under my bed to say
Sleep well my friend, sweet dreams zzz

Eileen Darbon

Let’s think happy thoughts,
think of the plusses and not the noughts.
Keep your chin up, Keep calm and carry on,
onwards and upwards, to infinity and beyond.
Times are rough, Times are hard,
but isn’t it about how you play your cards?
Always be kind, and if you can’t,
then keep your mouth shut, it’s what we want.
Make a habit of always saying YES,
do what for you, is always the best.
Be honest, be straight, spread love and ignore the hate.
You get one life, so make it count,
yes there will be fear, anxiety and doubt.
So, open your mind, your heart and your soul,
keep going, keep focussed, your mind on the goal
Shout out what what you want, and go and grab it,
because the only way to truly have something is to truly ‘have it’
Be positive and fierce, and take what you need,
without hatred or judgement or prejudice and greed.
Happiness comes not from what you have, but how much you give,
Now go out there, grab life by the balls and LIVE!!!
When life gives you lemons or things feel crappy,
Do whatever the hell makes you HAPPY.

It’s less than an hour from London
But a world away from the smog
It’s simply uncommon with a beautiful common
Where Swampy holds sway o‘er the Bog

Ah Bookham, Great and Small (sorry, Little)
It’s more than the sum of its parts
With its splendid Barn Hall, Another Brick in the Wall
And the Squareabout right at its heart

It’s green all around when you roam
Bookham, it feels like home

Bookham, both Little and Large (sorry, Great)
Linked by the umbilical Lower Road
Where the springs rise with rain, to flood yet again
Well at least they pop up in this Ode!

It’s Great for anything you want
With shops and places to feed
Pubs for a beer and a chinwag to cheer
It caters for every need

It’s Little enough to know
The people you meet on the go
A community that cares, and one that shares
That’s got your back when you’re low

It’s a place where you’re never alone
Bookham, it feels like home

A field away to the West
Is a place that’s profane in name
It’s called Effingham and not Effingspam
Pronounced without fear or shame

It’s got no Little or Great
Just ham, served on the same plate

Bookham, there’s no place quite like it
Though some would say it in plural
Twinned with each other, like one big Big Brother
And around it’s all pleasantly rural

There’s not much more to be said
It’s a village that gets under your skin
You can keep your far-Fetchedham
And your prim Effingham
I’m happy where I Live In. Bookham!

Aaron White

There was a young man on a bike
Who cycled straight through a red light
Those people who saw him
Begged and implored him
To stop giving them all a big fright

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