I wrote this poem while sitting in my lounge yesterday. It’s a “found” poem. A found poem is a poem that has been made from things that you’ve seen, heard, found, smelt, felt, etc when you’ve been on a journey, waited in a waiting room – anything really. So, I looked around my lounge to see if I could “find” a poem there. I wanted to take you on a journey and include every one of your five senses. I hope you like it.

The poem in my lounge

I’m sitting on the settee
In the lounge within my home
Looking for inspiration
To make a poem of things I’ve found.

My cat is curled against my leg
I stroke his silken fur
Warm and cosy, quite content
He rewards me with a purr.

The plants upon the windowsill
Regard the bleak outside
The leaden sky seems angry
So I think I’ll stay inside!

The clock upon the mantelpiece
Keeps good and steady time
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock it speaks
In perfect, rhythmic rhyme.

The TV’s playing a movie
In glorious black and white
Of cowboys and of Indians
Spoiling for a fight!

The pictures fixed upon the wall,
Of happy memories are
Precociously suspended above
My husband in his chair.

My nose is filled with the warm smell
Of dinner for the night
Slowly roasting, in the oven
Wafting hints of gentle spice.

And my mind is busy whirring
Thinking of the things I see
I ask myself the question
Is there a poem in here with me?

Ellen Turner
10 May 2020

Copyright Ellen Turner 2020