Tag: stories

Where is Freedom Born – Pete Cox

Where is Freedom Born – Pete Cox

Is freedom born in a fire burning a palace?

A Recipe – Kim Allen

A Recipe – Kim Allen

Before the counting’s done…

Six Miles – Leanne Moden

Six Miles – Leanne Moden

Six miles, again, we’ll go today,

for honour built on broken blades.

We’ll tame these meres; skate far and fast,

with hopes that winter, long may last.

For cold that creeps and freezes fen

brings out the Runners once again.

In tests of wit and skill and speed

on crystal lakes, still wreathed with weeds.

Contracted muscles, chests pulled tight,

like frightened birds, we take to flight.

Sinews screaming, taut like wire,

in every eye, a glint of fire.

On flooded fen, we carve our names

as brackish blood runs through our veins.

The lure of wealth may spur some forth –

we skate for love and all we’re worth.

This subtle smoothness, ice unspoiled,

a canvas stretched o’er sunken soil.

To skate the marsh is to be free:

These Fenmen do not run; they flee!’

In the Wash – Diane Calton Smith

In the Wash – Diane Calton Smith

Local writer Diane tells us a little about what she did during Lockdown – a productive time for many. Writing Fenland Histories and Mysteries has been part of my life for the last six years, but lockdown really gave my writing a boost. There was 

Another Town – C J Mawganson

Another Town – C J Mawganson

What can be done

Is there ever a way

Covid Lamb – C J Mawganson

Covid Lamb – C J Mawganson

They said that he died, the old man from the flats

Diabetic and eighty, he fitted the stats

An ambulance came, was a call from his daughter

They took him away, Covid lamb to the slaughter

Connected by wires to machines made by Dyson

No time for goodbye or a kiss from his grandson

‘We did all we could, please prepare for the worst’

They’ve said it so often the lines feel rehearsed

Another bed empty, another one bagged

Another confirmed, another toe tagged.

No poem by Auden, no black horse with feathers

The only respects are for distancing measures

We scuttle from houses like terrified spiders

To clap the front line, as it serves to remind us

We’re here, still alive, and not yet met our fate

Then return to our fears at one-minute past eight.

Better Days Ahead

Better Days Ahead

By C J Mawganson – see also Poetry “I wanted to create a piece of work that reflected the easing of lockdown. A reminder of what had been, and how we are now moving into a new ‘normal’. “

Mike Stallard

Mike Stallard

  Mike tells us: “The building is the centre of a tiny village in Hungary – I forget the name – which I did for my next door neighbour in return for a couple of jars of delicious pickles. It was her hometown. She moved 

Alice – Emma Evans

Alice – Emma Evans

acrylic on canvas with a mixed media clock.
Emma tells us:

I was inspired due to the way the world had changed during the start of coronavirus, everything was nearly the same but not quite right so I wanted to create a piece of work to reflect this.

The strange wonderland world appealed to me and I decided to paint my version of it.  The clock where the hands don’t move represented the limbo we were all in during lockdown.

Fen Blow – C J Mawganson

Fen Blow – C J Mawganson

Feel the Fen Blow bey…

Clive Bilcliff

Clive Bilcliff

“One is a portrait in acrylics of my niece who is a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit in Newcastle Royal Victoria Infirmary. I painted it in tribute to her and all her NHS colleagues who have been helping in the fight against the coronavirus. 

Luke Gillings

Luke Gillings

Here’s just a couple of pieces of Luke’s, check out his instagram for more!

Luke tells us:

I’m working on new stuff all the time and hopefully getting better.

Ive been sketching mainly during the lock down working on gesture drawing trying to put more action in my work where I have none in life at the minute. I am also trying to learn more about digital art and design.
I grew up in Wisbech, lived here all my life, drew since I was very small and am now trying to improve on something I always enjoyed doing.

www.instagram.com/lukekillings

 

Rebecca Shaw Engraving

Rebecca Shaw Engraving

  From Rebecca: “During lockdown I started making engraved personalised items. I started this for mostly friends and family however am trying to spread the word to others so they can enjoy hand made keep sakes too. I have made a little Facebook group called 

The Houseproud Husband To His Wife – Paula Monger

The Houseproud Husband To His Wife – Paula Monger

There are silverfish in the bath, my love…

The Three Bears – Garry and Paula Monger

The Three Bears – Garry and Paula Monger

An animal for which we care
Must be the big brown cuddly bear.
Bears are furry, bears are climbers,
Bears are loners and not rhymers.
Now and then to break this rule,
One meets a bear who’s no-one’s fool.
Whenever he can spare the time,
He has a flair for making rhyme.

Returning from the woods one day
The smallest bear was heard to say,
‘I think that I can see from here
Our door is open, Mummy dear!’
The little bear was soon proved right
As presently it came in sight;
The burst door was a nasty shock –
It would require a brand-new lock.

With claws crossed all three went inside,
One by one, not side by side;
The biggest sat down on his chair
And combed the tangles from his hair.
The second curled up on a couch,
With her pipe and tobacco-pouch.
The smallest bear fell off his stool
Which fell apart – he felt a fool.

Next they viewed the kitchen table,
(It’s the sequence in the fable)
Look! The large bowl has been tasted,
Food spat out and now it’s wasted.
The medium bowl was also sampled –
Dropped and smashed and contents trampled.
The smallest basin was upended
The silver spoon extremely bended.

They each went on to their own room
Filled with dread and gathering doom
Big bear’s king sized water-bed
Was in a pool where it had bled.
The next bear’s bed was hard and flat
The air inside had been squashed out of that.
The little bear’s bed was unbroken,
Its tenant snoring and unwoken,

This story must come to an end
Before it drives us round the bend;
It might be happy, might be sad,
Fit for a girl or for a lad;
Ursa Major, Ursa Minor
Or a panda with eyeliner –
Remember, take a lot of care
Recruiting your cub’s next au pair!

Garry Monger

The previous time I wrote a poem I was 12! Taking three science GCEs at school I dropped the Arts.
The Three Bears is my second poem, lockdown has saved my bacon but I shall have to create some doggerel for when things reopen
Natalia Shlyapina

Natalia Shlyapina

With thanks to Andrew Bottley and Alan Wheeldon for introducing Natalia to us! “Natalia Shlyapina is a floral designer from Tyumen, Western Siberia. She first studied her craft at the International School of floral design in Moscow called “Nicole,” which just happens to be the 

Ghost Buses – Lorna Sugden

Ghost Buses – Lorna Sugden

The buses are running…

Tom’s Football Game – Cardinal Cox

Tom’s Football Game – Cardinal Cox

A figure stands in Walpole St. Peter’s churchyard 
Raised for Tom Hickathrift, the hero of the fen
I will tell you this tale, although I am no bard 
About Tom, mighty giant amongst lesser men 
One Sunday when all good folk were in church to pray 
A crooked figure stood outside the churchyard wall
Yelled a challenge, “Hey Tom, why don’t you come and play?”
And the twisted form stood by a mighty stone ball
Now proud Tom could not resist so joined in the game 
They kicked the boulder between them for many hours 
Tom knew he did not need to ask the other’s name 
His opponent had a horned head and strange powers 
The game ran from morning to end of evensong 
When Tom won the game had lasted 12 hours long.