Sunday 15 January 2023

Words on town streets

 

WORD ON THE STREET
Resident? Visitor? Tourist, troubadour or ghost, 

we’re looking for poems, snippets and short stories that celebrate 

(or haunt, or disturb) Buxton’s Spring Gardens


Deadline: 31st January 2023

Send as word doc to: creepingtoad@btinternet.com

 


As part of the ongoing “Our Street” initiative in Spring Gardens, we’re collecting poems inspired by Spring Gardens – and the town as a whole. From elegant arcades to a lost theatre, from Ladybird Book window displays to bath chairs gathered at the foot of Terrace Road, we have galleries of photos to inspire writing and provoke conversation. Or just take a walk along Spring Gardens as it is now, peer into windows, listen to voices, think about the river that runs below the street and find a rhythm in your shopping list. We’re open to poems, short stories or just pieces of creative writing

 

Work will be collected and published on this blog and feature in an exhibition during a public event in the Pump Room on Sunday 19th February (details to follow). The project is coordinated by Gordon MacLellan of Creeping Toad who local children and families will know from events in the Museum, in Pavilion Gardens and through the woods of Buxton.

 

There are a number of blog posts that might help you

 

a) an introduction to the whole project

b) there are two galleries of photographs(with many thanks to Buxton Museum and Art Gallery!) of the Gardens over the last 100 or so years

here and here


c) we have started posting some contributions: these can be found here and here


d) then for some frivolous examples to get your word-thoughts running, why not try reciting some of our acrostics, nonsense rhymes and limericks posted here

 


An arrogant man on Bath Road,

Once called an old woman a toad.

She smiled a grin,

A toothless grin,

And, hopping, he reaped what he’d sowed.

 

OR MAYBE....


Bakewell puddings and Buxton cake

Are well known rivals at a bake

But the cooks were a’frighted

And the ovens ignited

When a rat danced a waltz on a rake.








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