sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: Footpaths

by 21 Comments

Since arriving in Hanoi I have spent a lot of time walking. Sure, there are lots of other ways to get around, but where possible (in the heat and depending on distance)  I like to walk, because then I get to see and hear and experience so much more.  But walking around a busy bustling city is not always easy. Many streets have no footpaths and, when they do, often the footpaths are used for anything but walking.  So often the walking has to be on the road, which can be perilous. But hey, I like an adventure!

 

Here is a glimpse at some of the things happening on Hanoi’s footpaths:

 

 

And, of course, my thoughts on all these sights  spurned a poem so that I had to hurry home from one of my walks to draft a poem about Hanoian footpaths.

Footpaths

Footpaths are for

cars and motorbikes

and more motorbikes

and even more motorbikes;

bicycles;

selling stuff

spread out on cloths on the ground

or piled high on stalls;

little stools;

food stalls

bia stalls

tea stalls;

dogs

and cats

and chickens;

rubbish;

sitting on

sleeping on

exercising on;

trees;

signs;

more motorbikes;

and

very

very

occasionally

walking on.

 

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy, 2018)

In spite of the cluttered paths, I’m certainly clocking up some steps on my step counter. In fact, I’m off now for another walk! But later I’ll be stepping out around the blogosphere reading the other Poetry Friday posts. You too can see this week’s roundup at The Poem Farm.

 

 

PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the  Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.

Poetry Friday: Rug Hug

by 28 Comments

Some weeks it takes me ages to come up with a Poetry Friday post. Other times it’s easy. This week was one of those.

Last Friday, as I read and commented on  fellow Poetry Friday-er Kimberley Hutmacher‘s  poem about her granddaughter’s Blanket Buddy (you can read her poem here), the opening line of my own rhyme about my own blanket came to me. See, although I am maybe too old (what? never!) to carry a blanky around me, I DO have a ruggy, which I make good use of cold days to snuggle on my recliner. So, I just had to write about it. Then, as I wondered how to get a good photo of my rug to go with my words, I remembered that only a week before I had snapped a photo of Murphpup who, very naughtily, had borrowed my rug for a hug of his own.  Perfect!

Here’s the result.

 

The guilty look on his face is because he was caught – but how could I growl at a (slightly scruffy but nevertheless cute) face like that? And its is very wintry here at the moment.

This week’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Mary-Lee at A Year of Reading. I’m snuggled up under my rug, ready to explore lots of poetic goodness. 

Poetry Friday: The Apostrophiser

by 34 Comments

Welcome to Poetry Friday. I’ve had a busy week this week, including a lovely visit to Helena College in Darlington, my first school visit for the term. The year ones and twos were very curious when I told them I was officially Doctor Murphy, and amused when I told them I’m a Doctor of Poetry  (weeeeell, it’s complicated to explain that I’m technically a Doctor of Philosophy, but that my topic was children’s poetry).  The rest of the week I’ve been busy with my university job and also preparing for my upcoming trip to Vietnam.

In all this busyness, I wasn’t quite sure what I would share for Poetry Friday. But, as often happens, a poem idea presented itself to me, this time as I muttered to myself about yet another misplaced apostrophe on a sign I read. As I muttered and grumbled to myself – and wished I could reach the sign to correct it – I realised that there was a poem just waiting to be written. So, instead of defacing the sign, I came home and drafted this little offering. I do feel better now, but can’t vow not to keep apostrophising (or de-apostrophising) when the need arises.

Image from clipart-library.com

The Apostrophiser  

She could never ever stand to see

A misplaced, misused apostrophe.

Hanging somewhere that it shouldn’t

Trying to do that which it couldn’t

 

To see this item thus abused

By a punctuator so confused

Left her feeling rather sad

Or, oftentimes, a little mad

 

Her editing hand would start to itch

An overwhelming symptom which

Would see her reaching for a pen

And correcting errors again and again

 

On pamphlets, posters, leaflets, signs

Apostrophes are everywhere!

Anything with errors in its lines

In menus, notes home, emails, books

Not caring if she garnered looks

 

From embarrassed kids, or passers by

Or angry owners who wondered why

She couldn’t let the errors rest

Instead of fixing them with zest

 

But her red pen was always ready

Her apostrophising hand  ever steady

Ridding the world, one at a time

Of dastardly apostrophe crime.

 

(Copyright Sally Murphy, 2018)

 

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is at Reading to the Core, where you will find links to lots of other poetry goodness.

Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Friday: A Shelly Monogram

by 34 Comments

It’s Poetry Friday and, after a long, unscheduled absence I am delighted to be back posting a little something – an impromptu poem, written in my head on my morning walk yesterday after I snapped a photo of  something I found on the beach.

See, when I spotted a curly squiggly piece of shell (or coral? I have never quite figure out what makes these squiggles), I stopped to take a picture – then realised that it looked remarkably like a letter S. And, since everything is about me, I decided it was an S for Sally;  but as I walked along, I started thinking about all the other things at the beach that started with S. And, by the time I got to the stairs, a poem had started to form. Which was wonderful, because not only did I have little poem to go with my photo, but I had something to post in time for Poetry Friday. And here it is:

Have a great Poetry Friday. I’m off to check out what my Poetry Friday friends have been up to this week. Can’t wait to catch up with them! You can, too, by visiting the Poetry Friday roundup, which this week is hosted by the team at the Poetry for Children blog, who are celebrating a Great Morning.

 

 

ANZAC Day 2018 – an Overdue Report

by Leave a Comment

It’s been nearly three months since I last posted here, and since in that last post I shared how excited I was about my upcoming visit to Villers-Bretonneux, it’s been very remiss of me not to post sooner. But of course I was on the road, travelling Europe for six weeks (how lucky am I?) and then, once home, there was so much to catch up on, and then I started to wonder how I could possibly capture the awesomeness of that visit to Villers-Bretonneux. And then I realsied that I could never capture it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a glimpse. So here it is.

Here I am rugged up in about a million layers waiting for the dawn service to start. You can see that even though I was freezing, and had been up since 1 am, I’m super excited to be where I am. It’s been a long long time in the planning to be here.

Here are a couple of snaps of the service and the crowd. Because of the light it was difficult to capture the scene or even the size of the crowd (over 8000 people). And, of course, what no photo can capture is the feeling – the most emotional dawn service I have ever attended.

 

And, of course, the school. Surreal to visit a place I have researched, written about, and longed to see for so long.  What you can’t see in the photos is that I had to stand in the rain to get these pics – but I didn’t care a jot!

Only a taste of my visit because oddly, I think the experience was so emotional that, for once, I am lost for words when trying to describe it.  But that doesn’t mean I will ever forget.

Poetry Friday: Three Poems from the Beach

by 22 Comments

It’s summer in my part of the world but most of my Poetry Friday friends are in the northern hemisphere,and so in the midst of winter. Last Friday there was a plethora of posts filled with snow and ice so, when I sat down to prepare my post for today, I thought it might be nice to warm my northern friends with some summer pictures and some poems from the beach.

This first one was written in January last year, and posted on the Poetry Tag blog I share with my friend Rebecca. In Poetry Tag we take turns challenging each other to write a poem incorporating whichever words we choose.Rebecca gave me: lazy, myself, print,  thousand and smell. At the time I was in the midst of a lazy summer, so that first word took me straight to the beach.

Summertime

On the beach   

I’m feeling lazy

Smell of sunscreen

Fills the air.

 

A thousand bushflies

Drive me crazy

As I make  my way

Down there.

 

I plunge myself

In cooling ocean

Feel inertia

Wash away.

 

Flies have vanished

No devotion

To watery fun

They’d rather stay

 

Beachside where they’ll

Leave their print

On backs of sunsoaked

Sandbound teens

 

Who’ve left the water

For a stint

Of games, or food,

Or magazines.

(Copyright Sally Murphy)

This next poem is new. I liked playing with short lines for the Flourish poem I shared last Friday,  so wanted to experiment with it again for this week’s topic. It seemed to fit with the playfulness  of a day at the beach.

At the Beach

 

There’s sand

and shells

and salty

smells

 

There’s water

too

so much

to do

 

Like splish

and splosh

swim

and wash

 

Build castles

moats

frolic

float

 

Throw balls

and play

stay

all day

 

Then say

goodbye

with happy

sigh.

(Copyright Sally Murphy)

This third poem is one I’ve shared before. I like it because it captures one of my favourite things to do at the beach- simply walk, with my toes in the water. I’m hoping to make some more poem videos this year,since it’s been a while since I made one.

I hope, Northern hemisphere friends, that all this beachyness  makes you warm rather than envious. I’m sending you as much virtual warmth as I can muster.

 

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by  Jan at Bookseed Studio.