About

We’re creating a valuable poetry collection — Branches Abound — open to anyone in Suffolk, England, aged 16 and over.

There are three themes:

The Environment
Positive Mental Health Recovery and Wellbeing
Covid Reflections

Submitting your poem to the collection, we hope, will bring value to you and encourage others to express themselves and be open about these topics. For submission guidelines and further information, visit the 'Submit Poetry' page.

This initiative is sponsored through Suffolk County Council's Engaged Communities Responses and Recovery Fund and Art Branches CIC and is part of a wider creative project working with volunteers in recovery.

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Art Branches is a not-for-profit community organisation specialising in inclusive creative projects for improving wellbeing in communities across the East of England. It aims to help people express themselves through words and other creative media.

To find out more about Art Branches and see more of our projects, visit our main website at ArtBranches.org and the dedicated sites for our creative wellbeing workshop project, Space to Breathe, and our multifaceted creative heritage project, Chronicles of Greyfriars. For the latest announcements and project stories, follow us on Facebook and Instagram.

Art Branches and Suffolk County Council logos

Currently Popular Poems:

A Grave Experience, Horringer Church

Into the yard I walked At dawn With winter sun’s warmth On the frosted stones Of forgotten folk And deeply-saucered lichen. Flint walls Like sweets in a shop Lining the church Solid mass of Untold stories overlooking forgotten memories. Sarah

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A Missed Blow

Turn the knob down A gas light Beckons A grasped strength Within Clutching For approval. Survive I might A further night. Rachel

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Lace-like Shadows

Dancing with lace-like shadows of forgotten worlds, the tortoiseshell creeps slowly, the last energies to lie upon the rough bark. With folded wings, Madame butterfly is no more til Spring. Charlotte

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Ghosts Walk Across The Sky

Covehithe road cut short at the cliff sailors now see its ghosts walk across sky John

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Very Important Invitation

V VULVA! Did I capture your attention? E Each of us have our own experiences, relevance, compliments & complaints to mention R Race, religion, gender – cervical screening has little constraints it’s about prevention and Y You are in control. I Investment in your health, time to talk, education about look & feel M More talking about our bodies, knowing the facts and questions we have all tried to conceal P Putting it frankly, simply and laid bare O Out in the open and then you find yourself sat in the chair R Red rosy cheeks, being asked about your periods, dryness, sex, safety and infections T That’s an odd question A And did the nurse forget to mention? N Not only do we want to do your cervical screening but we want to check your safe at home too T That’s the aim of our holistic game. I Invest in your time to learn, to read, to look after what you need N Now if you ARE in need we can promise you one thing can be guaranteed V Very Important Invitation will be here to advocate,...

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Erosion

Unerring yet erratic The weight of water never waits for readiness Sandstone is proven to be a two-faced liar a pretence of solidity written into the features of its rockface which crumbles under a wave’s supremacy and we wave goodbye to all we knew Lynne Nesbit

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View From the Window

Nature flourishes; society’s fabric hangs, this spring, by a thread. Green fronds of bamboo peer over our wall and wave at me through the glass. Spreading her palms wide, Fatsia Japonica plays the drama queen. A small fishing craft manoeuvres its way back home to harbour’s safety. The black cormorant with horizontal plumb line flies directly home. Billowing white clouds recall lazy days, laid back, dreaming, on the grass. A small patch of blue parts the clouds high above me, lifting my spirits. Cerulean skies, like a vast ocean without visible limits. Pink, turquoise and grey offer us celestial colour therapy. Irrepressible, waving tamarisk defies winter’s harsh pruning. Copying nature, we wave from our balconies, applauding heroes. Julia Duke

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Ready to Spring

Like the gnarly springtime bulbs, dormant in the ground Your demons crouch under the skin, waiting to be found Waiting for their moment, to break through and be seen The pale face of snowdrops, in a vibrant sea of green Emmalene Taylor

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Feathers

It’s as if all the birds In every weather Had dropped every feather The weight sometimes Of all those why's A ton of lead Or a ton of words unsaid Down on a feathered bed The weight belies The width of squawks When the birds are dead And they sing remembering When a ton of song Weighed the same as Fly away Autumns Flu away fall Feather or not Bird at all. Stephen Kirin

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Castaway

If my cast was made of moss I’d be content With the spring of reassurance. If my emotions were made of clay I’d mould them Into a ball. If my ball rolled Far away I’d rescue them Without fail. Natasha

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