Dogs versus Cats by Lynne Benton

For some reason there seems to be a general assumption that anyone who loves dogs is a GOOD EGG, whereas anyone who prefers cats must be a bit ODD.  (This includes a certain American politician who refers sarcastically to “cat ladies”, as if they were somehow beyond the pale!)  

I totally refute this!

I have written several books for children in which dogs play an important role, (indeed, one publisher asked for input from children, many of whom said, “I love this book because it’s about dogs, and I love dogs!”)  However, that doesn’t mean I necessarily prefer them to cats.  Indeed, although when I was a child we had a cat, and then, later, a dog, now, as an adult, I do prefer cats – maybe because the one we had was my first love?  When my own children were small we had two cats, both of which were much loved, but now my children have grown up only one of them has any pets at all.  (Two of them would, I think, have a cat if their circumstances were different)  But my eldest daughter now has both a dog and a cat, though I think she is probably more attached to the dog, who can accompany her on the frequent long walks that they both love.  And her three children are equally fond of both cats and dogs.  So maybe it does depend, to a large extent, on the animal/s you were brought up with.

Anyway, it made me think about the books I’ve read that are specifically about either cats or dogs, and I’ve come up with a few favourites.

The first of these is one from my childhood, which I used to hear on Children’s Hour on the radio, as well as read from the library: Orlando the Marmalade Cat, by Kathleen Hale.  This was the story of Orlando and his family, all of whom I got to know, the more I heard or read.  Following the success of her original book, Kathleen Hale wrote many sequels, of which this is one:

However, another favourite – or series of favourites – from my childhood were Enid Blyton’s Famous Five books, in which the fifth “person” was the dog, Timmy.  I loved reading the books, though in retrospect Timmy seems to have been remarkably well-behaved, and never barked at inopportune moments (which, in my experience, most dogs do!)

Then there were books I read to various classes when I was teaching younger children: Gobbolino, the Witches Cat, by Ursula Moray Williams.  This was the story of a foundling kitten who had no idea he was really a witch’s cat, and the scrapes he got into before discovering his true identity.  It was always hugely popular.

And of course there's the wonderful One Hundred and One Dalmatians, by Dodie Smith, which was popular as a book but has now become even more popular as an animated film by Disney.  Featuring dalmatians Pongo and Mrs Pongo and their 101 dalmatian puppies, who were desired by the wicked Cruella De Ville for their skins, it's the story of how they managed to escape her clutches.

And another cat book for children which I discovered quite recently, “The Cat Whiskerer”, by Cathy Hopkins, which is a lovely story of Tom, a “Cat Whiskerer”, whose magic whiskers could always sense another cat in trouble, and the cats in the neighbourhood whom he helped.

I’m sure there are many, many more, and people will continue to argue about this question, but it’s good to know that people will always want pets, whether cats or dogs, and will insist that their own choice is better. 

Website: lynnebenton.com

Juggling all the Hats by Sheena Wilkinson

I often use the metaphor of hats when I’m talking about writing – how I have to take off my writing hat and put on my editing hat. It’s not a startlingly original metaphor – I’m a novelist, not a poet. 

Today, as I was planning what to write for the blog, it struck me that those are only two of very many hats I have to wear as a writer, and I thought it might be fun to count up how many different ones I’ve donned in the last two weeks alone. Because it’s been one of those seasons when, in order both to promote my most recent book and to earn a living, I have, like so many writers, been doing a lot of very different things, all writing-adjacent, but few of them involving actually writing the next book. 

signing books -- one of my favourite things!

And it’s safe to say that when I started ‘writing fulltime’ I wouldn’t have had a notion how much juggling I would have to do, or how many different kinds of writing I would be helping other people with. 

some hats

Monday

Afternoon – running a writing for self-expression workshop for people with lived experience of mental illness.

Evening – launching First Term at Fernside – organising the event, baking the biscuits, wearing my best frock, schmoozing, signing books, and talking intelligently (I hope) on stage with fellow writer Shirley-Anne McMillan.

onstage with Shirley-Anne McMillan

Tuesday

Actual writing of my actual book!

Wednesday

Morning – teaching writing for children to Masters students on the Children’s Literature MPhil at Trinity College Dublin (online).

Evening – flying to London for tomorrow’s workshop.

Thursday – London

All day – teaching academic writing skills to PhD students at King's College, London, including one-to-one tutorials in the afternoon. 

the chapel at King's College London, where I popped in for much-needed respite 

Friday – London

Writing at my friend’s house; flying home. 

Saturday and Sunday – home!

Actual writing of my actual book!

But also – Sunday evening, driving to County Donegal, ready for two days of library visits.

the beach at Buncrana, in between visits 

Monday – Donegal 

Two library visits in two different towns, trying to convince children between eight and twelve that historical fiction is great fun. One child assumes my knowledge of World War One is first-hand, so this is a challenge. 

all ready to talk in Donegal 

Tuesday 

Same as Monday but also – driving home and packing for Wednesday.

Wednesday – home and Dublin

Morning – Train to Dublin (have to drive 50 miles first) to teach MPhil students in person.

Trinity College Dublin

Afternoon – bookshop visits around Dublin, signing books, having my photo taken, chatting to lovely booksellers and being look after by my publisher’s sales manager (which involves driving me around and buying me cups of tea). 

Ready for action at Dubray Books

Thursday – Dublin 

Morning – Two visits to two branches of the wonderful Dubray Books in different parts of Dublin, talking – for the first time apart from the launch – about First Term at Fernside. Signing books for young readers, talking to lovely booksellers. 

Evening – home again

Friday – home and Belfast

Morning – actual writing of my actual book

Afternoon – going to Belfast to talk about my book on The Ticket on BBC Radio Ulster

Kathy Clugston, who interviewed me about First Term at Fernside

Saturday – home 

Booking flights for Royal Literary Fund training in London next month

Writing this blog before actual writing of my actual book.

Of course, these are only the writing or writing-adjacent activities. There has also been reading, walking, running, eating, sleeping – a lot of sleeping; I tend to go to bed about nine when I’m on the road – and I was going to say housework but looking round my study right now, I would have to admit that would be a lie. And of course all the admin associated with self-employment. (Accountant, if you are reading this: my accounts really are on their way. Slowly.)

Life isn’t always so busy; I couldn’t cope if it were, and I’m happy to say that although my diary for next week says ‘BLOG TOUR’ I am not actually going on a blog tour, and I don’t have to write any blog posts. Instead, the lovely people at O’Brien Press have organised a tour for First Term at Fernside, and all I have to do is read the reviews and hope the bloggers liked the book. 

I shall be reading them from my sunbed – because I’m heading off on holiday, and not before time!

where I hope to be next week

 

 

 

 

Hatred in our schools by Keren David

 When I thought about what to write this month, I looked back at my post of  October 8 last year, written as I was just beginning to learn about the horrors unleashed by the Hamas attack on Israel. 
I wrote about my 2021 book What We're Scared Of, and in particular the character of Noah, a boy who has suffered violent antisemitism in France, and believes strongly that he will only be safe in Israel. 
I still don't know the answer to that one -  hard to, when the world's only Jewish state is under attack from at least four fronts, and Noah by now would probably be in the army -  as most Israeli teenagers are conscripted.
What I do know is that the other characters in my book, sisters Evie and Lottie, and Lottie's friend Hannah would almost certainly have had a dreadful year too.
Jewish schoolchildren in Britain -  especially those in non Jewish schools -  have been subject to antisemitic attacks all year.  A report in February by the Community Security Trust recorded 325 incidents in the schools sector in 2023, an increase of 232% on the year before. The vast majority of incidents, 70%, took place after 7 October 2023.
According to the Guardian: "Most involved abusive behaviour, but there were also 32 cases of assault and 10 of damage or desecration to property. Twenty-four of the incidents took place in mainstream (non-Jewish) primary schools."
This week's Jewish Chronicle carries an account by a schoolboy who said that after October 7 he felt he was 'drowning in hostility'. No one was interested in hearing his point of view, or supporting him in a traumatic time for all Jewish people. He gratefully switched to a Jewish school -  but pupils at Jewish schools are now advised to take off their blazers outside school, and try and hide their identities. 
I would like to say that teachers and librarians in the UK have responded to this tide of hate by using my book as a teaching aid, or inviting me in to speak. Perhaps a publisher would like me to write a follow up, or a non fiction guide to antisemitic tropes and the history of Jewish people? I'm joking, alas. There's been nothing but a big, fat silence from the world of children's publishing, and to be honest, I'm not sure I'd say yes if I was asked. I worry enough about my own personal safety as it is. 
The title of my book 'What We're Scared Of' was an attempt to reply to a friend (a children's writer as it happened) who felt unable to see why Jewish people found antisemitism scary. We weren't actually being herded into concentration camps after all. All the time I was writing it I worried that I would be accused of over stating the problem. Well, it is bitter indeed to discover that I was right all along. 
Children's books need a hopeful ending, and I'm trying to find one for this bleak post, I hope and pray that the voices for peace will prevail, that the hostages will be saved, that the bombing will end and that evil will be defeated. I remain stubbornly optimistic that things will get better. This is the secret of Jewish survival, and it has got us through thousands of years of violent hate. 

October, October in October by Paul May

It might say something about Katya Balen's 2022 Carnegie winner October, October that I've spent more time thinking about the parents in the story than about October herself, the protagonist and narrator. Or, more likely, it says something about me. But it occurs to me that the way parents are depicted in the procession of Carnegie winners over more than 80 years is interesting in itself.

Great cover by Angela Harding

Before I get to that though I should say that I did enjoy October, October. The book is written in an intense and often poetic style, especially at the beginning. A kind of stream-of-conciousness pours out of October, and you have to give the author a bit of leeway here, as she's trying to convey the heightened emotional state of the young narrator in language that it's hard to believe an eleven-year-old, even a precocious one, would have at her command. 

Eleven-year-old October lives off-grid in the woods with her father. Her mother wasn't able to handle life in the woods and left when October was about four years old. Here's October talking about her:

"In my head I think I remember the day she left but the memory is like trying to hold water in my cupped hands and it trickles away before my eyes. There are wisps of a woman holding on to my hand and I feel my whole body being pulled along by the tide of another person running and my legs can't keep up. There's crying and I know that I let out a shriek so loud it pierced the sky and the birds scattered."

This is great, but the voice is not like that of any eleven-year-old I've ever met. And the thing is, you do get carried along by it. There's no time to stop and think and, somehow, even though it ought not to, it does work.

October's mother writes to her, but October refuses to read her letters and she visits on October's birthdays, but when she does October runs away and climbs a tree. October always refers to her mother as 'the woman who is my mother.' Then, on her eleventh birthday she does as she always does and climbs a tree to get away from her mother but for some reason her dad climbs after her, falls, and is badly injured.

Now October has to go and live with her mother in London and has to go to school for the first time. There is also a baby barn owl which October is looking after (against her father's better judgement) and which she is forced to take to an owl rescue centre because they won't allow it in the hospital. I particularly liked the sections about school and wasn't surprised to learn that Katya Balen had worked in special schools. Yusuf, who befriends October, is a great character. I've met a few kids like Yusuf, but none quite like October. As for what happens, well, you'll have to read the book. 

But what about the parents? In the early days of the Carnegie parents were just parents. They might be dead, as in The Circus is Coming, or away from home on active service like Captain Walker in the Swallows and Amazons series, or they might just be there, pretty much in the background. They organised the children's lives, told them what to do or not do, cooked their meals and in general kept out of the way of the story. But until 1967 they didn't get divorced, and the relationships between the siblings and parents in merged families were never part of the plots or subject matter of the books. The Owl Service was the book that changed all that, but it was just an outlier, and in 1973 we could still read, in The Ghost of Thomas Kempe:

'Has anyone seen my pipe?' said Mr Harrison.

'On the dresser,' said Mrs Harrison, without looking up from the sink.'

We were still in the world of The Tiger Who Came to Tea. Daddy might come home from work and take us to the cafe. But as we moved into the 1980s families became less happy and settled and the books became more frequently about the relationships between the adults in the stories and the children. I'm thinking here of  books like The Scarecrows, The Changeover and Whispers in the Graveyard. I wouldn't want to suggest that parents and their problems never appeared in earlier Carnegie winners. Indeed the second winner, Constance Garnett's The Family at One End Street is almost as much about the adults as it is about the children, but there was definitely a change in the 1980s, so that when I started writing books for children in the 1990s it seemed completely natural to write about situations where parents were divorcing and finding new partners. I worked in primary schools and there were many, many single parents and many complicated families. Children's fiction, especially realistic children's fiction, does reflect changes in society, even if it does so with a little bit of a time-lag, which I suspect may be to do with the ages of the children's authors.

But in October, October I think we see something different—a book which reflects changing styles of parenting. When I read the book I was at first unable to believe that any parents would allow a five-year-old to dictate their lives in quite the way that October does. Surely if she's four, or five, or six and you think she should spend time with her mother you don't let her climb a tree and scream. No, in my world you would strap her in the car and take her to your house and wait for the tantrum to be over. 

Then I remembered those parent-teacher interviews where parents would tell me they could do nothing with their five-year-old at home. The child would trash the whole house in a fury. They had to lock their most precious possessions away to save them. The parents described their children as if they were a force of nature over which they had absolutely no control. And yet, mysteriously, those same children were often perfectly well-behaved at school. I even sometimes had parents bring their children to me and ask me to tell them off, as their own tellings-off were like water off a duck's back. (I didn't do it!)

It never occurred to me that parents could be so dominated by their children until I got my first teaching job. A five-year-old in my class wasn't eating his school dinners and I asked his mum if there was a problem. 'Oh, he never eats in front of other people,' she told me. 'He takes all his meals into another room to eat them.' That was kind of extreme, but most people of my generation are horrified when parents ask their children what they'd like to eat for tea. When I was a child I ate what was put on the table in front of me or I didn't eat. We didn't have choices. I had to eat things like cod roes on toast and liver and tongue (yuk!). 

And there's another old piece of grandma-style advice: Never ask a child a question to which the answer can be 'no', as in :'Would you like to go to the park?' 'Would you like to put your coat on now?' Mind you, it's the same with dogs. Not one dog in a hundred on the streets of London is properly trained these days. They almost never walk obediently to heel. The other day I saw a miniature dachshund dragging its owner along the pavement . . . grumble . . . grumble . . .

I felt for October's somewhat ineffectual parents, and I was glad (spoiler alert) that they managed to sort things out in the end, but I'm not the only reader to have felt that they had created something of a monster in their daughter. There's a curious parallel here with my own novel, Rain (2003). It's about a girl, about 13 years old, who has spent her whole life living on the road with her mum, Max, in an old bus. Max hates schools, authority, rules etc etc. Max is an artist, a painter. She believes that she and Rain are just fine together, travelling together, meeting up with friends at fairs and festivals. But Rain has started to want a different life. She wants to go to school, and she wants to find out about her father.

I never really liked this cover.
I'd rather have seen Rain working
 on a car engine
or punching someone.

I knew people like Max and I had a lot of sympathy with them, but I'd seen how idealism can get worn away by the realities of life and I'd met what used to be called New Age Travellers who'd given in and sent their children to school. But what I was most interested in was what it was like for those children, and for Rain, when they moved from one kind of life into another, and that's exactly what October, October is concerned with. It's about October, and the changes she goes through. But then I gave my book to a friend who was a therapist and she hated Max. She thought Max was selfish and really not a great parent. But I thought that Max was Max. At least I'd made her seem real enough for my friend to dislike her, so that was good. And the story was about Rain. Without Max being Max there was no story.

And that's how I feel in the end about the parents in October, October. If they're not the way they are, there's no story, and the story is a great one. In any case, I doubt very much if children are at all bothered about whether October's parents are doing a good job or not.

You can still buy Rain on Amazon as a paperback or a Kindle edition. I'm not sure the publishers really knew how to market it, but I think it stands up pretty well. If only it had been given a cover like October, October's by Angela Harding, a cover which was able, on its own, to persuade many Amazon reviewers to buy it. And while I'm on the self-promotion I also wrote a book about a boy looking after an injured bird, a bit like October does with her owl. It's called Cat Patrol is still available here.

The publishers spent months
getting this cover right. Peter Bailey did the 
black and white illustrations but they 
didn't like his cover. Guy Parker-Rees did this one.
I have the reject covers somewhere but I can't find them!

If you like stories about fathers and daughters living off-grid in the woods I recommend Debra Granik's 2018 movie Leave No Trace. It's very different from October, October but makes an interesting comparison.

My blog/web pages

THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH (a review) by Sharon Tregenza

 

THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH by Norton Juster

(a review) 

Recently my son bought me a first edition copy of my favourite, ever, book. 

It was an opportunity to reread this absolute classic. It was written by Norton Juster and first published in 1961. I read it first as a teenager and was delighted by all the clever wordplay and puns - its unique use of language and imagery. It was so unusual, I absolutely loved it. Illustrations by Jules Feiffer enhance the quirkiness of this book. 

Milo is bored. But when he drives through the tollbooth he encounters a wonderful world of whimsical characters - who can forget the watch dog with his ticking clock body and the absent-minded Humbug. The Phantom Tollbooth is crammed full of inventive names and concepts. 

It's constructed as a quest and encourages the reader to explore the landscapes of imagination and learning. It's definitely not just for kids and I learn something new every time I read it.

Its playful. Its clever. And after what is probably my fifth or sixth reading - it's still my favourite book, ever.

www.sharontregenza.com

sharontregenza@gmail.com

Classified as... ? By Steve Way

Hi, Yet again I'm caught out a day before 'my day'... To some extent as usual I've no words of wisdom to impart... however, I found an old page of classified ads... do you remember them? I hope you enjoy them.

PS They're not real!!!

FOR SALE.

Old wardrobe. Found in an attic. No back for some reason.

 

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Marvellous Medicine available. Apply George.

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Completely Indestructible Pills.

Previously only available to cartoon characters.

Ever wondered how Tom and other cartoon characters manage to survive enormous falls, having heavy objects falling on them, being run over by a train or running into a tree?

 Now you also can be completely indestructible.

 P.S. One possible side effect is that you could become 2-Dimensional and only appear on “cartoon Time”.

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 You may not believe this but we DON’T want you to see how good our product is. In fact we want you to ignore it completely, to treat it as if it’s not there, to behave as it it’s not worth looking at, even if it’s being worn right in front of you!

 

Yes – you’ve guessed it! From threads of silk bought from the gigantic spiders living in the Forbidden Forest, we make “Smith’s Invisibility Cloaks”.  Only available to very special wizards or witches. Come to our shop in Diagon Alley and don’t see how good they are!!

 

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Is your WAND WILTING?  What you need is some of DIGGLE’S WAND REVIVER. Rub it into your wand to revive its magic properties.

 

Made from magic waxes extracted from Upside-Down Bee’s hives and the oil from Not-Really-There-Nuts. Only our experts can survive a giggle-sting from an Upside-Down Bee or extract oil from a nut that is not really there.

 

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 POD PARTS.

 

Is your pod becoming a plodder?

 

Practically falls apart when you put it in hyperdrive?

 

Please don’t feel put out because here at POD PARTS we have all the gadgets and tools to help you get your pod back in the air.

 

Obviously we can’t force you to use our services but we would like to tell you that Anakin, our head engineer, is packed full of THE  Force!

 

So if you want to win a pod race so you can get your spaceship back on the starway then a visit to POD PARTS should be on your minds.

        ------------------------------------------------------

                                                                TOKEN

10% off for Jedi Knights.

 

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Heffalump Repellent Pot.

Frightened of Heffalumps? Then what you need is our Heffalump Repellent Pots. They look just like honey pots. Wear one upside down on your head. Frightens away all Heffalumps. Works especially well for bears of very little brain.

 

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 Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones and Jones (and Sons). Estate Agents.

  

Very “spacious” property. Early viewing recommended.

A highly unusual property has come onto the market. Previously owned by a TIME LORD, known in many incarnations as DR WHO. The TARDIS, although only looking like a small old police phone box from the outside is enormously huge on the inside.

As is well known, location is highly significant in the consideration of purchasing a property. This is another reason why an early viewing is highly recommended. This property can travel though SPACE and TIME and so can enjoy for some period ANY LOCATION IN THE UNIVERSE.

One consideration to bear in mind however before purchasing this property is that power mad megalomaniac aliens, such as THE DALEKS, who don’t realise this property has been sold to a mortal being, may pursue you through the afore mentioned time and space, with the intention of blasting every one of your cells from one end of the universe to another.

 This property is on the market at £2 million or 16 Agrian Mangle Blix.

 Apply Vendors. (Ask for Mr Jones).

 

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 Acting News.

New opportunity!

 Due to the retirement of the performer acting “Lah Lah”, we are auditioning for new actors to take on this challenging role. All applicants must be able to; make incomprehensible noises and jiggle about stupidly in a way that displays at least six different emotions, e.g. “happiness”/“sadness”/”Is it the coffee break yet”.

 

Daft costume provided.

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Available NOW from Exclusive Cars!

 

CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG

 

This elegant four-seater comes not only with a Jaguar V.8 engine, open-top facility and spare tyre but also with wings!

 

Highly useful for avoiding tiresome traffic jams, motorway tolls or saving children from the children eater. Give way to 747’s.

 

Current Price: forty five thousand imaginary pounds.

 

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Jobs Vacant.

Position available for dwarf miner. Previously we were a team of seven however Grumpy was well… Grumpy and left. Curiously only Happy was unhappy about it.

 

Applicants must have a name that is also a real word – a cheerful word would be preferable.

 

If you’re right for the job then its heigh ho, heigh ho, it's off to work you go!

 

Tools and quaint cottage with housemaid provided.

 

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HERE COMES POETRY DAY - and a Poem from Penny Dolan

At the start of September, on social media, teachers started asking about poetry books and anthologies Then came art work inspired by poems and requests for poems on curricular themes. Some asked for poets who were ‘good at school visits’, some lamented the costs, while others posted links to free poetry videos. 

Why the rush? Then something clicked. Of course! The reason for the buzz! This week there’s a big celebration:

THURSDAY 3RD OCTOBER

is

NATIONAL POETRY DAY.

And there’s plenty of information about it on the Poetry Day website. 

                                     

However, what caught my interest was the theme chosen for this 30th Birthday Party:

‘COUNTING’

Counting? Not a fan of maths, I shook my head. What did counting make me think about, other than abacus and number work in long-ago reception classrooms? 

But after I let the word sit in my mind for a while, I decided that 'counting' didn’t seem such an odd choice after all.

After all, poetry works through a subtle counting of the patterns and rhythms within the piece. Consciously or unconsciously, readers or listeners become aware of the pulse, hear the beat within the poet’s words.

There’s a whole poetic vocabulary dedicated to this quiet counting, full of terms like metre, iambic pentameter, trochees, stanzas and so on. But what I’m thinking about is the deep rhythmic play within poems, that pattern that creates an almost-physical response, adds a sense of movement and anticipation and the satisfaction as the pattern reaches its end.

Poetry can be about the idea of the voice counting, being of merit, having words that need to be heard. This could be one single voice, offering unique thoughts or a whole range of voices that, now, need to be expressed and heard.

Poetry is also a form of accounting: poetry notices. It bears witness to people and places and times; it marks celebrations and changes; it says that this or that happened and it mattered to one person and maybe to many.

Poetry counts, too, as part of our personal lives: many people read and rely on certain poems and poets. People often carry their own inner anthology of poems in their head, even as a mix of half-remembered lines and verses. Poetry sits there in the the memory, ready to be savoured, a kind of comfort during the dark moments, as words for the happier times and as evidence of life between. Yes, Poetry counts. I’ll go with that. Wonder what the Society actually say on their website? 

Meanwhile, in another mode and mood entirely, and for anyone still in search of that ideal, elusive Visiting Poet, here’s my own, slightly-sideways tongue-in- cheek version. As they say 'Enjoy’ - and have a good Poetry Day too!

        THE POET THAT KNOWS IT

        I am a Visiting Poet

        I am tall and fit and lean

        I can jump about for hours

        And I bring a sound machine.

        I wear eccentric clothing

        Because Poets often do,

        And in my school performances

        Will often mention poo.

        I am beardy and I’m hairy

        (As schools prefer A Man)

        Add wacky words and laughter

        And all the jokes I can.

        I can tick the box for empathy

        With well-timed sighs or tear:

        (Poetic Finances are tight

        I’ll need more work next year.)

        I do pets, cakes, friends and bullies,

        Weather, sport and football teams

        And if I do the ‘Key Stage Two’,

        Have verse to make them scream.

        I set the children buzzing,

       Using similes galore

       They chant and stamp out rhythms

       Till there’s puddles on the floor.

        I perform five sessions daily,

        Full of Poet Energy

        So the teachers can feel certain

        That they’ve had their worth of me.

        I cram the kids with poems,

        With fun and joy and cheer,

        ‘Cos when Poetry Day is over,

        They’ll have none until next year.

        But sat at home, I’m quiet,

        I dream and think and muse.

        Or go out poetry walking

        In ordinary person shoes.

        I see my friends and neighbours

        And stare up at the sky,

        And no-one knows this silent soul’s

        That ‘Visiting Poet’ guy.

        By Penny Dolan (copyright)