It’s Poetry Friday and I am home, after a wonderful month of travel, with a very full heart and three very full notebooks.

One of the wonderful experiences I had was a writing retreat in the South of France.  It still feels luxurious just to say that!  I spent six days at a French farmhouse  (aptly called the French Houseparty) near Carcassonne, with a brilliant group of fellow writers, and under the tutelage of poet Anne Caldwell.

One post can’t do justice to all I learnt – about writing, and about life, with this wonderful group in this equally wonderful location.  But, since it’s Poetry Friday, I thought I’d share two poems I wrote in one of the sessions. Anne had us focussing on all five senses as we took in our surroundings. Firstly, as we stood on the edge of a field of poppies. There was so much to take in, but I was especially drawn to keep looking up – the sky was crisscrossed with the vapor trails of seemingly dozens of planes, and I had to snap pictures, even while I was busily trying to focus on the exercise. 

I’ve seen vapour trails before – many, many times – but never as, on this day, so many. In fact, over the course of the morning, I lost count of how many planes I actually saw flying over adding to the pattern. It was magical. So, no surprise that when it cam time to write, that the trails made it into my first poem.

Blue Sky Day

Bumbling bee

dipping in and out

of red pockets of pleasure

hums a tale of spring.

Tottering tractor

rolls across

brown furrows

ensuring

summer’s sunflowers

are safe.

Winsome windmill

stands still

ready

for Autumn’s toil.

Crisscrossed sky

shows the path taken

by winter-weary travellers

following the sun.

Sally Murphy, 2024

The second exercise we did honed in even more on the senses, as we led each other, one with eyes closed, around the garden, and then stopped and asked our partner to tell us what they could see, hear, feel, smell and taste. I found myself saying, with surprise, ‘I can taste Spring!’  But, when I sat down to write, I was also still obsessed with those vapor trails. This is what I came up with:

Taste It

White trails

crisscross

otherwise perfect-blue sky

showing the paths of

winter-weary travellers

seeking spring.

Down below

I know

they will find it here.

The sun caressing my cheek

my legs

my soul.

The resiny pines

singing with the wind

the dove crooning –

they all know it too.

I can taste spring.

Sally Murphy, 2024

I am, as I said, home now in Australia, and the wintry weather has hit with a vengeance. It is cold and wet. But every time I think of France, I can still taste Spring!

And in other tasty news, when I got home, my copy of a brand new anthology was in the post. I’ll post more about this soon – but today’s Poetry Friday host, Janice, is not only sharing some glimpses, but has included one of the poems I have in the book. So head over there to learn about the anthology, and then  you can see what other poetry Friday goodness is on offer.