Poetry in Woking Park

Adisa is a poet of Caribbean descent based in London, well known for his performance work and creative writing workshops within the education sector. He has published an audio cassette of his work 'Rivers, Trees and Just Like The Sun'.

Welcome to the Poetry Trail

This book contains a selection of poems produced by pupils from Greenfield School, and adults with special needs from Cranstock Day Centre, during this project. The poems were created during a series of workshops in the Woking Park with poet, Adisa. The poems' inspiration are various focal points in the park, and express the children's and adults' personal response to this special environment.

The aim of the project, which is part of the Poetry Society's national scheme 'Poetry Places', was to create a poetry trail through the park. Using the poems as a starting point, the children and adults then worked with artist, Clare Straiton, to create sculptures to mark the trail to provide a sense of direction. These sculptures are made from natural materials which can be found the park and the surrounding countryside. They are intended to be temporary markers highlighting the transitory and fragile aspect of our natural environment.

These sculptures will surprise, amaze and intrigue you as you walk in the park. Looking carefully you may also find words from the poems in unlikely places. Before you walk the trail you are invited to read the poems in this book to share in the participants' experiences of the Park.


James, Class 4, Greenfield School
Welcome to our Trail

We start at Woking's River Thames of flowers

Going through the purple passage way

To the pyramid.

This great valley of the kings

Has been chopped up over the years

To make a circle of tranquillity.

The woman of wisdom we come to next,

Going down bushy lane

Weeping willow wonder

Leads to duck swamp

Where canoes enter every second.

This junglely port is always busy,

We go down the prickly path

The aquatic amphitheatre stands proudly

Happy in the middle of old and new.

We hope you enjoy the trail as much as we did making it!

 

Priya, Class 3, Greenfield School

I found a red flower snake

Curling round the grass

like shiny beads on a necklace,

Elizabeth had a snapdragon

She blew it and

It went in my face.

 

Hemita and Jack, Class 4, Greenfield School

I speak of a flower face that

Reminds me of the reflections of my smile,

I dream of the power that the wind

Uses to swim through the trees,

I sing of the sweet smelling

pollen that the bees carry,

I taste the honey dew

That dilutes the air,

I am a flower made of silk

That one day hopes to grow. 

 

Barry, Chris, David & Tammie (Cranstock Centre)

The centipede tree has lots of arms and legs

Staying still like frozen ice

It looks like grass but is prickly like needles

The tree stands tall

Branches sweep the earth and kiss the sky

We give the tree a deep voice

And can hear a troll's voice coming

From the heart of the tree.

 

Ashley, Class 3, Greenfield School

A red spider lived inside the wrinkly bark

That protected him like Noah's ark,

One day there came a storm

That washed him away from his home

That was made of elastic from Rome,

So he decided to make it from bone

But he found that it was too hard,

So he sent on a search

And ended up with a birch.

Emma, Class 2, Greenfield School
The Island

A piece of broccoli surrounded by water

It stood there staring,

Surrounded by hot chocolate

Rippling all over with wobbling ducks,

The ducks think we are giants

And our fingers are bread,

They remind me of rainbows

Because of their heads.

 

Nathan, Class 2, Greenfield School

Ducks fighting for diamonds

Glinting in the sun.

 

John, Cranstock Centre

The island of Jamaica is with me in Woking park

And the trees are green

With spikes coming from the pond in which we've seen

The pond is like a grey road with ducks paddling around

Like a moving boat

Their feathers are like soft pillows and blankets

Mauve, grey green and brown

Their babies are exactly like pellets

So small and colourful.

 

Chris, Cranstock Centre

Under the blue water the sea lions come alive

Under the blue water

They sway to and fro to the music of the waves

Our sea lions of stone

Living room sofas

Round and soft

Looking at the sky.

 

Young Poets Network