Writers gallery

The following short pieces of prose have been written by students on our Creative Writing courses tutored by Sara Ridgely:

Mother Shipton by Corrinna Toop

If it were not for my stories would you draw near
a woman so bent and knotted by God
that even the dogs turn away in fear?
I would be alone if not for this skill
of weaving a tale to suit your desire.

And would you care if I lived or died if I
could not predict your own demise?
Would you hand me gold just for being alive
or keeping a house, or sweeping the yard
if there wasn't a rhyme to tell by the fire?

So I bear them like children into the world
to grow and spread on the mouths of men,
to be retold again from ploughman to earl
to fit the circumstances of the time
and to draw you back to me again.

You're Perfect by Graham Smith

‘You're perfect, Dan,' said Helen, ‘for someone else.'
‘Hell, you're right,' said Dan.
He had had doubts about this woman from the start. Nothing he could come right out with, but little signs had worried him.
She had never looked very stable on the back of the Harley, wearing that gown and the high heels. Oh, he had managed to ram the helmet on top of her coiffure all right - no girl of his was going to risk a head injury when he opened the throttle and went over the top of that old blue ridged mountain on one wheel - but still he had his doubts.
Then there was her choice of music. Who was this guy Mozart anyway? Dan couldn't find it on any of his ‘Heavy Metal Highway Pounding Rockers' and he had a collection of over a hundred albums.
Thank God he had found out in time. When a man has hit it lucky for fifty million bucks in the lottery, he doesn't want to tell just anyone about it.

Missenden Abbey by Marianne

From the banks of the River
I can see no Water
A white Swan
Has slowly flown

Serene and dignified Missenden Abbey
Standing at the head of Misbourne Valley
Stately piercing through Constable cloud
Crack of dawn for birds twittering out loud

From the banks of the River
I can see no Water
Graceful bowing sun
Herd of nuns on the run

Fading memories of mute monks
Munching bread and sipping white wine
Under the mighty Cedar's intertwining leaves
Are blown away in a breathless breeze

From the banks of the River
I can see no Water
I can hear far off voices
Jolly timbers veiled in green

Scores of students displaying art
Dancing in slow motion on the lawn
Dreaming of a better creative start
Discovering skills and thrills
In a sea of timeless love

On the banks of the River
I can feel flowing Water
A flock of Swans
Are passing along