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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460420" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0012 Poetry Class</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Two o’clock on a quiet afternoon, <br>and the class file in for their poetry ‘hour’, <br>brief daily slot in the packed week’s course in many things. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We’ve been through ‘the basics’ –<br>whatever they are these days; <br>they’ve been told what, at least, <br>they used to be; I try to keep all options open, <br>say ‘this is what it used to be’, tell them<br>it’s a great time for poetry now, no rules, <br>just sincerity, the open heart, some models<br>if they need them, so after this week, <br>just read, write, as much as they can; <br>and now, forget about achievement, <br>just feel really good<br>that you’re doing what you want to do, <br>being what you want to be - yourself -<br>saying what you want to say –<br>feel more like a loving, expressive human being<br>than you’ve ever felt before..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A few more basics, just as few as may be useful; <br>then I say, here’s today’s offered theme, stay in the room, <br>or find a place outside on this fine day, <br>come back promptly please..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forty brief minutes later, they return; <br>would anyone like to read theirs, no compulsion? <br>None of them want to be the first, in case…<br>I wonder if they know just how much they’re loved..<br>I ask one, in the end; then of course<br>they all want to read, each with<br>an apologetic preface first..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the end of the week, the inevitable<br>request for a presentation; I’ve tried<br>to shield these innocents from that.<br>I say, it’s voluntary… they all want to read.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so they do. We chose ‘Childhood’ as the theme<br>at 24 hours’ notice and just forty minutes..<br>perfect choice. The audience love them<br>for just being themselves, and what they have to say.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The one who pretends to be a mouse<br>reads hers; her cheeks are pink with mingled<br>modesty and sincerity. I catch<br>the light on the corner of my colleague’s eye<br>where a tear of sheer love is gathering.<br>Poetry has worked its magic once again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460420" data-title="0012 Poetry Class de Michael Shepherd" data-description="Two o’clock on a quiet afternoon, 
and the class file in for their poetry ‘hour’, 
brief daily slot in the packed week’s course in many things. 

We’ve been through ‘the basics’ –
whatever they are these days; 
they’ve been told ..."></div>
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