The Dodo | Gail Henderson

Have you ever seen a Dodo?  Nor me

A bird, so could be looking in the wrong place – a tree

It’s big, I hear it’s over three feet tall when found

Will be both walking and nesting on the ground

It’s heavy too, you’ll never see it fly

Has yellow feet so sure to notice it pass by

It’s only habitation is an Island called Mauritius

Apparently extinct because it tastes so delicious!


Gail Henderson arrived in Angus, from Oxford in 2006. From Doncaster, South Yorkshire originally she still considers herself a Yorkshire Lass. After writing poetry for many years, often lighthearted with a touch of humour, three years ago she joined a creative writing class and now writes short stories as well as poetry of a more serious nature. During lockdown of 2021 she discovered an online writing group, The Procrastinators, the group has helped her explore different genres and given her the opportunity of sharing her work. 

Ode to a Golden Galleon | Gail Henderson

Oh no! When did this happen?

I’ve cared for you so many years, I’ve loved you even more.

One minute, all crystal and sunlight

wrapped safely in paper, not any old paper, soft, white tissue

that cradled you’re delicate masts and pennants,

cushioned your fragile, lace like bow, stern and deck.

.

Now you are a wreck.

Small, glass galleon, dear delicate thing, unrecognisable and yet

crystal and sunlight bring sparkle to your fragments of hull, sail and prow.

How can I love and admire you now? 


Gail Henderson arrived in Angus, from Oxford in 2006. From Doncaster, South Yorkshire originally she still considers herself a Yorkshire Lass. After writing poetry for many years, often lighthearted with a touch of humour, three years ago she joined a creative writing class and now writes short stories as well as poetry of a more serious nature. During lockdown of 2021 she discovered an online writing group, The Procrastinators, the group has helped her explore different genres and given her the opportunity of sharing her work. 

The State of Me | Gail Henderson

Look at me, look at the state of me.

Too long I’ve left the nearly new, kitten heeled shoes, boxed out of sight.

The sleeveless, summer shift, label attached says too tight.

Confined, coloured Contact lenses out of date, out of favour.

Lemon and ginger green tea unsupped, left for someone else to savour.

Gym membership paid, card mislaid, my abs forgotten how to crunch.

Bike languishing with sooty cobwebs, Spiders putting all their legs to good use.

Redundant eye shadow, lipstick and mascara keep each other company in a different, dark drawer.

Jewelry, forgotten, unappreciated for months waiting for admiring glances when worn on safer days.

Soft, silk scarves stay folded away, replaced by masks that filter, stifle, suffocate.

Don’t look at me. Please, don’t look at me.


Gail Henderson arrived in Angus, from Oxford in 2006. From Doncaster, South Yorkshire originally she still considers herself a Yorkshire Lass. After writing poetry for many years, often lighthearted with a touch of humour, three years ago she joined a creative writing class and now writes short stories as well as poetry of a more serious nature. During lockdown of 2021 she discovered an online writing group, The Procrastinators, the group has helped her explore different genres and given her the opportunity of sharing her work.