Please see below new poems by Sheila North.
If you are inspired during this lockdown time and would like to share your inspiration with the choir (within reason) then do send to me.
Nature’s Orchestra (10 May 2020)
Quiet, listen and now really stop and hear,
There’s not a sound from far away, there’s not a sound from near,
Complete silence, so hushed to you it feels quite deafening,
Then the harder that you listen sound will be awakening.
There’s birdsong soft and tuneful, a real melodic background,
It really is the sweetest, embracing harmonic sound,
Finer and more exquisite than any orchestral composition,
It’s nature’s very best and finest exhibition.
Can you hear the breeze as it gently rustles in the trees?
The very faintest movement causing song from all the leaves,
And as the wind increases there’s a mellowing of the sound,
There’s a hum and a drone as branches are tossed around.
The first drops of rain fall silently from the skies,
So soft and so gentle they take you by surprise,
Pitter and a patter lightly drumming on the ground,
Rhythmic and throbbing, nature’s percussion has been found.
A soloist arrives and the central ground secured,
A blackbird, dressed for his performance, tallest tree procured,
His repertoire magnificent, the sound carries far away,
He greets us at dawn in the chorus and then he ends our day.
Nature’s Freedom (13 April 2020)
I sit relaxing in my hut while reading my book,
totally immersed in nature in every direction I look,
My surround is silent except for the song of the birds,
I’m encouraged to write and catch this moment in the richness of words.
There’s the gentlest breeze just moving young leaves,
It brings a welcoming coolness which can only please,
The perfume from lily of the valley is wafted my way,
I watch delicate flowers enwrapped in green as they gently sway.
A sound floats down as two swans fly overhead,
Necks and legs extended, like aerial ballerinas to the skies they’re wed,
Rhythmic wings beat with their magical sound,
As to the water meadows their journey is bound
A bumble bee joins me while in my hut,
It briefly rests on the cover of my book now shut,
Most delicate legs and a body as soft as down,
Eager to continue his quest, hoping pollen will be found.
My garden is tiny but overflows with sights, smells and sounds,
Ablaze with colours nature’s palette has no bounds,
I don’t feel trapped, restricted or confined,
But open to appreciate all of natures riches entwined.
Changing times (23 March 2020)
We are frightened and that has drawn us together,
We are sad and frustrated but this will not last forever.
We are on the cusp of lasting change in how our lives are lived,
Existence as we know it is being questioned and intensely quizzed.
Support and reassurance is always very close by,
Our choir will laugh with us and sustain us when we cry,
We will suffer, but not all of us together,
As one slips another rises so our help is there forever.
And now a sing a long on Fridays, life is becoming brighter,
Longer days are coming so days will be much lighter.
Our homes are being painted, tidied and spring cleaned.
Cupboards sorted, gardens tweaked, beyond what we’d have dreamed.
Look after each other, keep your distance, phone, message and write,
Wash your hands and sing the anthem then you’ll know it’s right,
Eek out that toilet paper and carefully use eggs and flour,
Take up new hobbies, read long waiting books and sing anthems in the shower.
I have had delivery of my poetry books and have some spare for sale. £10.00 will cover my costs and make a small profit that I will donate to the new Winchester Hospice. Please pass on your name and address if interested and I will add you to my list. Many thanks. firstname.lastname@example.org