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Jun. 12th, 2007 08:50 pmWas sitting in the living room relaxing and watching a comedy DVD before setting off for Julia's poetry evening at the library, which I was sure was at 7.30, when I went upstairs to change my sweaty and slightly food-stained T-shirt for a clean shirt. While there, glanced at the Post-It about the poetry gathering on my wall - it started at 7 PM!! Looked at my watch - it was 6.51. Hurriedly turned off the DVD player, unplugged the telly and strolled down to the library. I was lucky - I was less than 10 minutes late and they still hadn't started.
The theme was 'holidays', so earlier today I'd cobbled up a whimsical poem about my favourite trips away ever, when I used to go and see the Tranmere girls at their summer tournaments. Everyone took turns reading poems - mercifully, they started with the lady on my left and went clockwise, meaning I went last. No-one said much about my poem, but I knew it wasn't one of my better efforts so I didn't mind. Unknown to me, we all had to keep reading poems in turn throughout the 90-minute session. However, they didn't all have to be our own work - people read favourites by Burns, Betjeman and others. Julia was nice about me only having brought one, she knew I didn't know how the group operated, so she picked out poems for me to read from the Hampshire poets' compilation she'd brought along. The others' original works were in the main very nice, and a guy called Harold had written a couple of very good ones, though when Julia pressed him on whether he'd written them about real-life experiences he just said "They're poems. Poems based on a thought."
On our way out Julia remarked how she'd seen some of my other poetry and said it was really good - "It's very emotionally passionate," she told the others. She asked how I'd got there; I said I'd walked. She asked if I was OK walking home and I said yes, but when one of the other ladies asked where I lived, Julia persuaded Margaret to give me a lift part of the way. She said "I can't stand seeing people walking home, all alone."
Going to go watch Britain's Got Talent as there's bugger all else on.
The theme was 'holidays', so earlier today I'd cobbled up a whimsical poem about my favourite trips away ever, when I used to go and see the Tranmere girls at their summer tournaments. Everyone took turns reading poems - mercifully, they started with the lady on my left and went clockwise, meaning I went last. No-one said much about my poem, but I knew it wasn't one of my better efforts so I didn't mind. Unknown to me, we all had to keep reading poems in turn throughout the 90-minute session. However, they didn't all have to be our own work - people read favourites by Burns, Betjeman and others. Julia was nice about me only having brought one, she knew I didn't know how the group operated, so she picked out poems for me to read from the Hampshire poets' compilation she'd brought along. The others' original works were in the main very nice, and a guy called Harold had written a couple of very good ones, though when Julia pressed him on whether he'd written them about real-life experiences he just said "They're poems. Poems based on a thought."
On our way out Julia remarked how she'd seen some of my other poetry and said it was really good - "It's very emotionally passionate," she told the others. She asked how I'd got there; I said I'd walked. She asked if I was OK walking home and I said yes, but when one of the other ladies asked where I lived, Julia persuaded Margaret to give me a lift part of the way. She said "I can't stand seeing people walking home, all alone."
Going to go watch Britain's Got Talent as there's bugger all else on.
