For our June meeting we returned to leafy Blackheath.

Our first activity was a summery one.  We  had a choice of various plants and herbs to choose from, including basil, roses, lavender, rosemary and gypsophila. Our task was to spend 6 minutes writing about the thoughts, feelings, or memories that the scent of the plant inspired in us.

We started our second task by reading two poems by Shel Silverstein on the topic of childhood, after which we spent 15 minutes writing our own ‘childhood’ pieces.  Shel’s poems are below. You can read our work here.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

 

The Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

 

Shel Silverstein