The Bretton community writes poetry

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (68 of 72)Untitled

A rolling duvet-filling of grey cloud moves
Toward the Centre and its metal
Perforated public chains
Out from the Centre goes
The maze of mystery paths
To somewhere else
Pebbles from a distant seashore
Define a patch of petalled colour
Secretive, seen from behind
Curtains.
A red kite wheels high
Above tall, wind-planted trees
And the wide, confrontational
Eyes of the owl on the brick wall of
Eyrescroft Primary
Look up. Look over
Growth, safety
The next generation might stop the decay.

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (66 of 72)
Where I live

Bird song and Red Kite flying
These were my findings where I live
Trees aplenty, bar a concrete jungle
Where you can get lost
Trees in bloom, they seem neglected
A community it was and is
And this is good, this is where I live

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (71 of 72)Untitled

Come into the woods to hear bird singing
and feel the cold wind.

I passed by the water park, on the way
found a big stone

I felt the unusual smell of yellow flowers
on the flowery way near the footpath
Trees were moving in the wind
slowly getting green in the spring shape

I touched a fluffy cat and saw the white dog there
Felt so lovely, on this adventure walk

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (63 of 72)Untitled

The lines of an ageing 45 year old are visible he said
But who, where, how do space connect
Tired tarmac, take me through
Secret doorways, under boxes to private lives
Plants in pebbles, plants in dustbins, plants as matted beds,
plansts tat we planted, your judgement is.
Living on top of your walkway, its a radical design
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, you are Bretton’s future.

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (69 of 72)
My Bretton

Pedestrians and cyclist divided by bricks
Pathways leading to many personal mile stones
Forever surrounded by waves of calming distant traffic and
scurrying urban squirrels
Scarred patches of tarmac representing former childhood play
areas,
Grass cutting through concrete with proud woodland trails side by side
Distinctive. Bretton will always feel like home.

By Darren Leeder – A North Brettonian since 1982

LBP_PETERBOROUGHPRESENTS (65 of 72)Untitled

Spring blooms
Lovely picnics
Birds in woods
Blue bells
Children Playing
Goats in garden

All poems were produced through a workshop led by wonderful poet Keely Mills

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