When you write, do you use a computer or word processor?  Most of us do, and yet when it comes to writing poetry we revert to the old fashioned pen and paper. Why? Because poetry comes from the heart and expresses the feelings beyond the rational mind – which is where we are when we write on a typewriter or computer. Edna O’Brien, the Irish novelist, is famous for saying she writes only by hand because of the connection that runs through the blood and the sinews from the heart to the pen.

You can’t miss the fact that poetry is getting a big plug at the moment – just tune in to BBC 4 and BBC 2 next week if you don’t believe me. I think it’s because poetry is what we turn to at times of stress, deep emotion and a feeling of wanting to connect at a deeper and different level.  Poetry can lift your spirits, make you laugh, and heal the bruises of your heart with the salve of understanding.

We all have poems we love and remember and they form an emotional tapestry that we draw around ourselves in times of need. One of my favourite poets is Emily Dickinson, who I discovered at University, and one of her verses has stayed with me through the years – though interestingly I have often interpreted it differently.  That is the thing with poetry, your understanding of it grows with your experience and the ability to lift the veil of judgement and criticism and simply accept the feeling that the poem gives you.  You don’t have to understand the technicalities, you just have to feel the intent and the effect. Just to prove that reading poetry need not be an endurance test, here is a short verse of hers:

 Hope by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –                                     

And never stops –

at all -

Poems can also tell stories, so I am indulging myself by including one of my own that I wrote for a friend’s birthday.  We had lost touch due to a number of circumstances, and this was my gift to her that year, and not intended for publication, but it might paint a picture for you:

Friendship by AnnA

 Friendship, it seems to me, is a tender plant that needs much care

 And yet will continue to thrive with benign neglect and the

 occasional watering phone call

We are both set in the same earth with our roots entwined for mutual support 

Through soil that is often barren and rocky and yet sustains us            

We lean against one another in the high winds and heavy weather that life lashes us with

Managing to produce the beautiful flowers of joy and laughter             

And a shared ability to see ourselves and the other as we truly are

The thorns of misunderstanding and confusion may jab and prick   

A stem is broken, and the flower falls in the resulting tears and feelings of abandonment

But we both know it will grow again as we are so very willing to nurture it

with love and patience and a real caring of each for the other.

Could this be the week you write a poem? If not, why not?