South Chingford Poetry

  This is an imagined scenario from early 2021: Poor old Richard he got in a muddle, and dropped his face mask in a puddle. Oh now it’s all mucky, that’s really unlucky, can’t do shopping, he’s really in trouble! RETURN TO LIST OF POEMS

This is my first attempt at writing poetry, and describes the route I took to becoming a volunteer at SCCL Listen to recording THE TALE OF THE TIMID ENGINEER AND TWO  LIBRARIES in August,2011 our story starts, you’ll all be pleased to learn When timid engineer at library arrives carrying books he must return But what is this? Outside the library, between the flowerbeds, instead of no-one to behold, a group of people stands, nay a delegation , what story’s to be told? “They plan to close the library!” they say, “outrageous!” he retorts! Steady on, timid engineer, a little strong from you, more thought! “Will you sign petition?” a fair lady asks “of course” he says and after signing, enters in, his books returned on time. Be honest, timid engineer, you rarely come here now it’s just by chance you’re here, and you certainly want no row! Emerging again to sunshine, fair lady speaks once more “if we cannot save the library, are you prepared to do yet more?” “A volunteer ...

 This poem is quite different in style and content from all my others. To begin with, it relates to an event back at the end of the last century, so to some extent it was written from memory. It is also about as far from mundane as you can possibly get. It is also tinged with great sadness as, while I was writing it, my friend Martin who was my companion on the adventure, died after being ill for some years. Unfortunately, he never had a chance to see the poem. Martin was a great friend who I first met when I was at Hawker Siddeley Power Transformers. He took me under his wing when I was posted to the transformer design office as part of my apprenticeship training. He was a superb walker, and together we completed the Pennine Way. Once was enough for me, but Martin did it again! He was immensely popular with a large group of walking friends, and is sadly missed, leaving us with many fond memories. There is a lone piper mentioned in the poem, and I was keen to establish who he was. ...

  The not so smart shopper Listen to recording Shopping used to be a breeze, just go to shops buy what you please. Now it’s loyalty cards, online apps, web purchasing, DIY scanning, being smart It’s no longer shopping, it’s a retail experience , it’s more like an art Must try to be smart and keep up though, so let’s give scan and bag a go! Listen, there’s a ping ping here, a ping ping there, here a ping, there a ping, everywhere a ping-ping First scan bee-food card says  “welcome back guest”  how very polite! – I am impressed Into fruit and veg department (sorry, fresh produce) I need a carrot, ah here’s one loose Let’s find some scales – there’s some in the distance Oh, says “Printer Fault – Please ask a member of staff for assistance” Just one set working!, surrounded by frugivores, hurry, must get on! Oh no, touched the wrong picture; it’s a carrot not an onion! I’ve scanned it now, oh this is fraud, how fraught! Don’t want to appear again...

  The tale of the new fridge/freezer (a short September saga) Dedicated to this wonderful new age of modern communication and internet shopping By Richard Ashen                                              November 2017  Listen to recording I am fed up! The maintenance demand for old fridge/freezer plopped down on the mat That’ll be a lot towards a new one, so that’s enough of that! It’s stupid keeping on paying this, for ancient piece of kit I’ve had enough, I’m idiot, doesn’t need much wit that’s it – it needs to be replaced! It really must be done It’s easy now, of course, just go online, this will be fun! And here’s a little advert I feel bounden here to say with Give as you Live, can earn the library money along the way Can just find...

A very strange but true story. Listen to recording   Prenez garde à la porte ouverte by Richard Ashen I rarely open the French doors now, security is key But it’s hot today, so let’s open right hand one and see It’s Wimbledon time, first Friday, and humid too as well Let’s let some air in, I’m wilting if the truth’s to tell Now all seems fine, and after lunch, and several cups of tea I’m settled in my favourite chair, facing open door, you see As usual I doze off ( have excuse it’s hot today you know!) I’m coming to, where am I? what day is it, oh no! It’s about half past two, and in my dozy state I hear a little rustle, what’s happening to relate? Is this real, a little nose, then brown face with black eyes appears above door sill It’ll be one of those cheeky squirrels, I’ll soon put him to flight, I will! But no, I really do not believe this! a cheeky rat climbs up from patio, and enters room, sees me, his eyes agleaming Then walks slowly towards me, now only a metre away, am I d...

  Having lived in South Chingford on and off for most of my life, I have often thought that we treat our own river with scant respect. I was also uncertain of her full course, so I undertook in late 2017 to try to follow it. This also reminded me of some aspects of local history of the areas I travelled through. So I decided to write this poem, to firstly highlight some of the places passed through, and their story, then secondly in the hope that it may encourage people to get out and walk in some of the areas visited. Finally, there is the hope that it may encourage local people to respect the river more, rather than perhaps treating it as a dumping ground. On this final point, I have to pay tribute to the Love South Chingford group who are doing a wonderful job in brightening up and cleaning up South Chingford. I know some of them have leapt into the river on the supermarket section to remove shopping trolleys and other debris, and have certainly improved its appearance a lot in ...

  Early on during the first lockdown in 2020, the King Lear Prizes competition was announced (so called because Shakespeare  wrote "King Lear"  during sporadic outbreaks of the plague in 1605 and 1606). This was open to contributions from those 70 and over, in the categories of short story, music, and poetry. This poem was my entry, based on very personal and local experiences at that time :  Listen to recording SOUTH CHINGFORD SPRING 2020 The line of senior stoics moves slowly past the trees whose beauteous blossom white trembles gently in the breeze. Till eventually, bit by bit, the queue disperses in the store, while nearby 406 traffic thunders past with mighty roar. Once inside we quietly shop while warily keeping our distance, two metres it is, who can forget, but announcements give assistance. When on our daily walk, one is allowed, most roads are near deserted. Pedestrian crossings now redundant, no crowds, just people skirted. To keep apart,...