So I am a member of a writers group. It is small and imperfectly formed, but it does offer me the challenges I need in my busy world, if I am ever to get the ideas in my head on to a page.
We are not the Bloomsbury Group. I’ve checked on the Internet*. Our ideals are much less lofty, as are our talents. But in our own small way we add to our own small world and it’s fun.
In the spirit of ‘getting our work out there’ we decided to copy an idea we had heard about from another group. It was agreed, last week, that we would attempt to write a set of poems which we would print up on to a little leaflet. We will then make copies and distribute them to local doctors’ surgeries, whether they want them or not.
I read the example leaflet that a fellow group member had brought along. In truth I found it all very worthy and to be honest, for the most part, dull. There was some doom, some gloom and some gentle lost love musings, mixed with golden futures, bright horizons and a call for peace, quiet and tranquility.
My feeling is that, if you are sitting in a waiting room in pain or worried about being ill, you probably don’t want to know about the woes of another. This of course is the nub of my problem. I might be wrong. Some might find a fellowship in misery. It is quite possible a poem might speak to them, reassure them they are not alone or quite possibly cheer them up when they realise someone else is suffering more than they are.
Now I try hard to rise to the challenges we set ourselves every other week. I would dearly love to write something inspiring, comforting and eloquent. Oh to be a someone with intelligent insights into the role of the ‘poetry health paradigm in the healing process’ whose thoughts were worthy of a spot on Newsnight. I can but dream.
Unfortunately my natural inclination is to giggle at stuff. When I find myself in a doctor’s surgery, nervously waiting an hour for my ten second consultation, I don’t want to have to care about the travails of others. I want someone to care for me and they can do this by making me laugh.
So in the spirit of caring I’m sharing my contribution so far as it is drafted.
I once knew a sailor called Billy,
Who did something we would call silly,
The doctor just laughed,
But it hurt in the bath,
He won’t play such a trick again will he?
Fortunately I still have another week before the group meets.
For a bluffers guide to writing groups my thanks go to – https://www.inkedvoices.com/writing/famous/