Sue Whittaker  
     
 

Sue WhittakerSue was born a northern lass in Newcastle upon Tyne but bred in Yorkshire. Her mother brought her up to appreciate the written word and especially poetry. On the domestic scene she is very blessed with two daughters who in turn are expanding their responsibilities as mothers.

Sue's career has been devoted to looking after her family and she has worked widely in the commercial world as ‘Jill of all trades’. Sue is involved in creative writing workshops and helped to establish one in Tang Hall called Writers Together. She has read her poetry with ‘Jack of several trades’ Adrian Tellwright at the Edinburgh Festival in support of Oz Hardwick.

Sue runs a small business of bespoke desk top publishing, "Picturesque Cards". She makes greetings cards, business stationery and publishes her own work, for example, "A Taste of Yorkshire", as well as Writers Together projects.

 
  Poetry:  
    York Gone By    
    Chocolate    
    Late Climb    
     
   
    York Gone By    
         
   

I have slipped through the years,
and am now an old-fashioned city.
The busy housewife used to wind
her way through the snickels,
delivering washing or to pay her pawn.
Minster now towers above my landscape-
roofs unevenly steep and my bars
or gates the Vikings named,
walls to walk with occasional surprise view.
See lanes where tanners and coppersmiths
carried out their craft and sold their ware.
My Blue Bridge meets Foss and Ouse.
Together they protect my heritage:
mostly now gasps of time forgotten
remembered only by buildings and names.

York Gone By    
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    Chocolate    
     
   

It’s never too late for chocolate
and after eight’s the perfect time.
Chunky dark or milk, I’ll eat and
eat because they’re all mine.
Softest creams, nutty clusters,
turkish delight and caramel chew.
All four at once and feeling queasy.
Marshmallow dip into choccy fondue.
Black Forest gateau is serious.
Multi-layered cherried sponge team.
As good as double choc chip muffin
That is topped with squirty cream.
Next a large bar from planet not far.
I think that’s about all I can take.
But why not just a little more...
Now where did I put that chocolate flake?

     
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    Late Climb      
           
   

Fully equipped, in mist
can you see Old Man of Hoy?
Bare rock no humming bees
crumpled leaves fall dry.
Petals wither in autumn frosts
where once nectar flowed.
Breeze sweeps scree
and cold weather chills.
Toadstool rings damp zones.
Dew wets, weathered form.
Insects sip withered flowers
as lifeless winter comes.

Late Climb    
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Writers Together is a creative writing group based at St George's Methodist Church, Tang Hall, York

Click here to contact us or email info@writerstogether.co.uk