It was the week in which someone found her story’s form (magical realism with a shape-shifting protagonist), someone discovered her comedic voice and someone found the confidence to read a poem aloud for the first time. It was the week in which everyone achieved something, and everyone discovered the value of being on retreat. The house hummed with the sound of writers being productive.
Our blog and website are filling up with images from the week but here, to complement the visual record, is my haiku journal, jotted in the quiet moments in between workshops, one to ones and cooking sessions in the magnificent kitchen at Rosemerryn.
Rosemerryn haiku
Rain in the morning Long journeys through soaking lanes The house is waiting Voices in the hall We gather in the kitchen The house is breathing Stories by the fire What do you hope for this week? The house is listening Night at Rosemerryn Fire dies down, footsteps upstairs The house is sleeping Early morning sun In the kitchen breakfast waits The house is waking Around the table We gather like family The house is laughing Final afternoon Luggage and damp autumn leaves The house says goodbye
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