I sometimes…
I sometimes…
like to visit St Paul’s,
to sit in shafts of light under the dome,
and listen to the celestial choir—to the music—and words the hymns say,
But when it comes to kneel and pray,
I whisper, time to go home.
Okay. That’s it for today.
I sometimes…
wonder about being a witch,
to wander in the woods under a full moon in a coven—dancing naked round a tree,
but… is that me?
I might get cold, or give someone a fright.
Okay. That’s it for tonight.
I sometimes…
contemplate my navel,
and meditate
Sitting crossed legged,
Gazing at a candle, humming,
Then my legs get stuck in the Lotus position,
That’s awkward, mate,
What a state!
Okay. That’s it for today.
I sometimes…
Lie on my back to stare at the stars,
the cosmos, the universe, the galaxies, black holes—
I am in awe of starlight—the vastness of it all,
And I realise—how small
I am.
Okay. That’s it for tonight.
Lesley Scoble, March 2025
First of all, my thanks to the Poet-of-the-week, Val, Murisposis, for “your personal creed or your spirituality” prompt.
- THEME: Your personal creed or your spirituality;
- FORM:
Stanzas: No less than three stanzas; no more than six stanzas;
Refrain: Must include a refrain;
A refrain in poetry is a phrase or line repeated at intervals within a poem, often at the end of a stanza
NOTES
“Your personal creed or your spirituality” were not an easy subject for me to take on. I like to avoid religion (and politics), as they are deeply personal and seem to always cause conflict.
Most wars are started with a “Bible in one hand and a sword in the other” (apart from conflicts over oil and rare metals, of course).
I am not anti-religion; in fact, I envy those who have a strong belief and faith—it must be comforting.
The prompt’s theme of creed and spirituality reminded me of the time I spent in the Northern Irish city of Belfast. Below, I recall a few memories of my experience with “creed” in this troubled town.
Belfast: a city in conflict with creed
a little bit of personal history
I lived for a while in Belfast. (*I know, what was I thinking‽)
*I mean no offence. My mother was Northern Irish. I’m just against religious bigotry.
I set up American Jazz Dance classes in leisure centres throughout the city. I taught in Protestant leisure centres in the morning, then crossed the barricades to teach American Jazz dance in Catholic leisure centres in the afternoon and evening. This was a segregated city—a city where the term “mixed race” meant you were half Catholic and half Protestant.
I was teaching dance and choreographed a professional dance group called Entrepreneur to raise funds for a major dance centre in the centre of Belfast. (We all have crazy schemes that seem a good idea at the time, right?)
It’s a long story that I might rabbit on about at some later date.
Anyway, I lived in Belfast, and drove around in my pride and joy—a vintage bright red 1968 Morris Mini Minor. I sailed a lot and carried my red Topper sailing dinghy on the Mini’s roof. (I know, how cool is that‽ ).
One day, I got lost in the backstreets of Belfast. (My navigational skills have always been questionable.) I drove down an unknown side street straight into a riot. A car was overturned and in flames. There was a mob hurling rocks, Molotov cocktails, and detritus. When they saw me and my bright red Mini with its GB number plate, they became like flies swarming at speed towards a turd.
My three point turns have never been much good (To this day I wonder how my three-point turn passed the test). However, if you saw me that day—the execution of my three-point turn was amazing! I have never performed a more perfect, nor faster, three-point turn in my life.
That day, was memorable because I witnessed, up close, and bore the brunt of, what religious bigotry can be like. It’s about power and control.
I was stopped around the corner by an army patrol. They lectured me on driving around with a GB number plate… and they made me feel I was in the wrong.
My bright red Mini once broke down in a rainstorm (there are a lot of those in Ireland—it’s not green and lush for no reason). I called the RAC (car recovery) for help, but I was in a ‘danger zone’ in the Antrim area, and they wouldn’t come to help me. (Another long story)
It was not long after these incidents that I booked my ferry ticket to sail back home across the Irish Sea to England, never to return. The “major dance centre” was never built.
THANKS
My gratitude to my mentor David Bogomolny, The Skeptics Kaddish. ‘Twas the happiest day when I stumbled upon his site introducing me to his weekly prompt. It has been the best poetry learning curve for me. I know I am not the only one who owes David enormous thanks. Is there an award I can put him up for? Thank you, David, for your never ending encouragement and kindness 😇
Please click below to find out more about David’s poetry prompts.
Last but by no means least, I want to thank you, the reader, for reading.
I wish you love, peace, and harmony.
Lesley lives in the City of London Square Mile. An artist, actor and sculptor (her first ceramic sculpture won the V&A inspired by… Award). Scenic artist & book illustrator, playwright (her musical play, Rapscallion performed in inner city schools and theatre school); TV dancer; mime artist; Animator and illustrator for TV production. Set up Pinecone Studios Ltd and IIMSI Ltd drama and filmmaking workshops in London – producing award-winning films made by children.
LesleyScoble.com 
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