The Pollok Writers Group was born of the Carers Group. No tears or tantrums from this lusty infant, but a serenity and enjoyment of past experiences written for posterity. Tough! On posterity!
I envied those who shaped and moulded their ideas and clothed them in their flowing prose, sometimes lyrical poetry.
We thrived and improved nurtured by our tutors of varying talents.
I re-discovered a love of poetry. A love submerged and long buried. Buried in the turmoil and at times frenzied activities in work on shipyards and docks.
Articles from the Kist evoked a host of memories. The wee school satchel worn and stained by childish hands. And did that unfinished wool scarf veil a sad story of the dreaded telegram that halted the stricken hands of another bereaved mother.
The Kist was a rich repository for the Writers and we reaped a rich harvest of themes and topics, ample material to weave our tales, hopefully to enthral, educate and entertain family and friends.