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About Mungrisdale Writers The Mungrisdale Writers are a group of creative writers who meet fortnightly at the Village Hall and Recreation Rooms, Mungrisdale. Our members come from a variety of backgrounds and as a group we are interested in a broad range of topics. Some of us have written for publication but others are novices. We find the group both stimulating and entertaining and the Village Hall a wonderful place to work. Our writing is inspired by the ever changing seasons, the beauty of nature in our Cumbrian setting and the life and people around us. Angela Locke, our tutor, guides us on our creative and meditative journeys. Her encouragement helps us develop confidence to move forwards with our work.

(If you interested in developing your own creativity then come and join us. All that is needed is a pen and paper and a desire through sharing and friendship to become involved in a journey of self discovery.)


The summit of High Pike, photographed by Ronnie Auld
*****

dating@60 and other tribulations

ISBN No 978-0-9550249-5-5  

Last chance saloon!  Order via our Amazon Bookstore, click here and follow the links.   Don't be put off by the statement that they are out of stock - you will get your book pretty quickly, they just don't keep stock of everything.   You can also get it at Waterstones, Bookends in Keswick or Carlisle and The Bluebell Bookshop in Penrith or from any good bookshop
The two poems below celebrate John Bagness, a longstanding and much loved member who recently died.   See News page for more detail.
Marking Time
John Bagness

                           

Don't panic! Don't panic!

Shouted Corporal Jones

Fearing bombs might fall

And rattle his bones.

Zeno shot arrows,

Knew not where they fell,

That they should not have moved

Was all he could tell.

He, who raced 'gainst a tortoise,

Could get only halfway.

Now when youngsters run past me

I'd much rather stay.

Stones not placed by chance

Counted miles, Roman way,

Along their straight roads

On each long marching day.

But life's milestones march on

Passing faster it feels,

Big Five-O and youth spent,

Six-O hot on its heels.

Seven-O some way gone?

Eight-O not quite in sight?

I now cherish each day

And welcome its light.

Do we move or does time?

Well, something goes quicker.

Even experts don't know

Though they endlessly bicker.

New friendships and old,

Fading photos and tales,

On wings the years fly

While our ships furl their sails.

No more yawning! Boot up!

Go on yet one more tramp,

Across fells in the morning.

Checked the keys? Doused the lamp?

2009

 
For John
Sue Banister

A gentleman, a gentle man

a soft goodbye

with much regret

 

When a bird sings unexpectedly

on a bright morning

we will think of you

 

After rain, the sun’s reflections

in a small pool

and you appear

 

Soft winds that tease the trees

bring echoes of your voice

 

We have you in our heads and hearts

you live on there

Other people dance to longer tunes

Others change and grow

 

Your journey ended suddenly

 

2010
 
Group Publications
     
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