About / Join SLN

ARTEMIS
poetry

Remote Workshops

Fanfare anthology

Her Wings of Glass anthology

Join Mailing List

Annual Renewal

Donations & Support

Mary MacRae ‘Access to Poetry’ Fund

Lest we forget…

Contact Us


 

STOP PRESS…

2018 Competition

Poets of the Month:
May 18

May Festival

Holland House

ARTEMIS
poetry latest Issue, 19

ARTEMIS
poetry Issue 18 extracts now online

Poem of the Month (to Oct17)

Latest recording:
Daphne Gloag

latest Remote Workshop Perceptions of Time

ARTEMIS
poetry Guidelines

Competition prior year Results


 

*** 2018 POETRY COMPETITION now open ***

*** Events Spring Festival (May 25th/26th): (ENQUIRE for last places on workshops… Anne Stewart 01689 811394/07850 537489)
Holland House, fully booked but enquire for reserve places ***

***Remote Workshop Perceptions of Time, by Myra Schneider
(Fanfare & Her Wings of Glass, both series still available) ***

Need help with travel to Second Light events? See Second Light Mary MacRae ‘Access to Poetry’ Fund

Poets of the Month (& see sample poem below, by Kaye Lee)

Featured Poets, May 2018 straight to poems

Marion Ashton, Breakdown Pond
Amanda-Jane Burrell, Jerusalem
Cora Greenhill, Slackening
Kaye Lee, Hand in Hand
Jane McLaughlin, The Lacemaker Travels to Seville
Sue Moules, Nappies on my Neighbour’s Washing Line
Liz Parkes, Mow Cop, Staffordshire
Mary Anne Smith, Out of the City
Nicola Warwick, You hated those plums
Margaret Wilmot, Clay-Lady
Pam Zinnemann-Hope, Marriage to Lazar – 1905
 

 

Sample poem (selected at random)

Hand in Hand

Years ago I held your hands
to guide you on the long
walk to hospital. Beneath
their patches your eyes
oozed tears to wash away
woodchips thrown there
by the giant saw.

Your hands were large,
calloused. Black sap
emphasized lines and folds,
darkened every nail. Skin,
brown and tough from the sun,
still let splinters skewer in –
you’d prise them out with Mum’s
fattest darning needle.

Though I led you, all
the strength of our bond
lay in your hands not
in my small, anxious
eight-year-old fingers.

When I hold your hands again
to help you from your wheelchair
mine are the weathered, rough hands,
yours are Persil white, baby soft.
You do not recall the pain
of penetrating wood and your hands,
calm, delicately trusting, accept
that now the strength is mine.

Kaye Lee

 

Second Light Network – a network for women poets.