Creative Corner: ‘Elements’ Showcase

A collection of poetry on the theme of 'Elements'

This month we focused on the theme of elements. The word ‘element’ can be defined in multiple ways, be it relating to the substances; earth, water, fire, and air or as something more figurative such as the element of surprise. Our poets scope the natural, the behavioural and the astronomical in this month’s showcase!




So long forgotten

Are the grains of sands, the salt of the sea,


The sun, Earth, moon and stars:

the somethings that cannot be crafted;


Are disregarded by the



And those who want to engrave names on discoveries: distracted as


The man on the moon.


When everything else seems

smaller (for me, anyway): the burning of a bright



Is greater,


When put together collectively:



than any eye will ever see.


All are fundamental to life’s living entities-


Someday, you’ll see

that natures, are creators of you, and of me


I advise you

(Please) Forget distraction


Olivia Morel


I stepped out into the English rain


I stepped out into the English rain

And the water welled up in my shoes.


Across a damp horizon peers a blackened spire

A spindly finger jabbing into clouds

Lingering above the narrow streets

Tenanted echoes of a time

Of iron and smoke

Imperial powerhouses gutted and silent

The remnants of those who stoked the fire

Hunched against the smash of glass

The miserable knock of the Bailiff’s fist

Steel rusts brick cracks

People slip beneath a life collapsing

Into the garish high street rush


Beyond the murk of dying breeds

Roll dew-sodden pastures

Where England’s heart thumps a cantankerous beat

In oaken bark and whistling streams

Squat stone follies dwarfed by heaving trees

Sighing proof that the fertile land

Still rejects calls of renewal and youth

Burying itself in rite and practice

As impregnable as the nestled homes

Whose lights dot the windswept valleys

Whilst a thousand heavy dusks

Peer down upon the country


At the end of a jetty thrashes a foaming sea

Clawing at the same land it so bitterly defends

Screeching gulls and shattering squalls

Clutch the islands tight

Tearing rock to sand and ship to timber

Albion’s crown a freezing marine

Wrecking galleons drowning heirs

Scattering an icy spray that

Trickles down onto fields and towns

Beyond the white-tipped breakers


Elements of a creaking nation

Mingle in the deluge

In the swelling tide they yelp and cry

As the current bears them forward.


Sam Young




An element of surprise

When I say I’m with a girl.

‘Oh, didn’t you have a boyfriend?’

Yes, have you never heard

Of the word: ‘bi’?

No reason I can’t like both.

A hint of invalidation

In your tone and words.

‘Does that mean you’re figuring it out?’

No, I know what I am.

An aspect of dismissal

When you still use ‘gay’

As an insult. It’s 2018.

And leave hateful comments

On social media.

Fuelling homophobia, keeping it alive.

Behind the anonymity

Of a computer screen.

Without care, or realisation

Of what it could mean.

The small displays of discrimination

May seem harmless at first.

But bring these all together

And it shows that they are still oppressed.

Maybe not as much as before,

But these elements are still there.


Emily Patel


Late July


Late July dog days hang heavy around your chest, air stifled yet soporific

as you lie awake, in sweat soaked nights. Finally, you sleep,

tasting salt, and dream of paddling in the



Rising, temperatures soaring across the globe,

Early morning hike, the peaks rise into view, bleached dry beneath

sunshine glare, barren and brown as an apocalyptic wasteland,

nature’s premonition


the sheep enclosed within sparse shadows of shade, nibbling gnarled hedgerows,

where sheltered grass grows


and curling seashell leaves lie golden, fallen stars dappled

by rays runny as an egg yolk, streaking the watery sky with light


Hazy days linger in consciousness, then fade from memory,

sun stolen, vision clouded as the world darkens.


Look what I can do to you-

Nature roars

in the language of lightning and groaning thunder, rain torrential

and as unforgiving

as the heatwave

that you wished gone


Now watching from your window, the view recast in grey tones like a fading photograph,

gravel glows with a damp sheen, the same as a shingle beach

when the tide has gone out.


Clasping the latch, through the minute gap you can breathe, inhale

air smelling of raw mulch from undergrowth. On the other side of the fence

the neighbour’s child is playing. Yellow raincoat, a duckling of a child, unperturbed by the weather.

Puddles explode underfoot, sloshing against small wellingtons, and the water sweeps

across your ankles,

as the tide does in your dreams.


Lauren Winson




The slow tantalising glow

Of your amber eyes

A dying ember

That suddenly flares up with life

I chart your reaction

Watching for the carnal smirk

That draws me in

Like a moth to a flame

Mesmerizingly incandescent

I fail to look away.


Esther Kearney


To get your work featured, send your submissions to, or message Esther Kearney via Facebook.

Featured image courtesy of Georgia Butcher.

Article image 1 courtesy of NASA Blueshift, article image 2 courtesy of Amanda Slater, article image 3 courtesy of spatz_2011, article image 4 courtesy of Art Gallery ErgsArt – by ErgSap and article image 5 courtesy of  Karthik Inbasekar

Image use licence here.

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