Inksters of the Week: Talented Writers of McGlashan

Thursday 19th May 2022

A keen group of talented McGlashan writers spent Wednesday afternoon in a writing workshop, learning about the writer's arts of observation, control and precision through creating Haiku, and attempting Haiku Sonnets. Read their efforts below.

Finlay Anderson

Dull orange blinkerSurround sea of ugly greyTrue beauty I seeThrough broken sunroof floodsVast waves of hot bright sunlightTurn the seats red hotResting on metalWorn grey rubber in hot sunSlick, dangerous deathReflective windowsHazy view of universeClear silhouette inThe metal cockpitRises above the car, a tin tower

William Ashton

Standing, looking onDeeper down, scars become knownFeet: chipped, broken, black.

William Bary

Proudly on a hillDrops its leaves and there stands stillWaiting to restore

Ewan Beadell

Leg up world downSky of world the open plainsThe top level of grass

Martin Brook


We sit - the earth, whichHolds life: grass; insects; flowersToo small - we destroy

Haiku Sonnet:

The earth is oldOlder than us, but we see,Its worn bare surfaceWe sit on the earthWearing away its coverIt is naked hereBut lo! There it isThe guard, an ant, wears flowersIn grassy islandLook (we do not look)It is just the ground to usOur home, ours aloneHow often do our footsteps treadOn what we falsely assume dead?

Zac Brooking

Haiku sonnet:

A small tardigrade lives on a little droplet under my left shoeIt’s unseen, unheardUndetectable without Advanced equipmentUnseen to all eyesInsignificant, almostNonexistent to me Little tardigrade Invisible, invincible butInconsequential It's fun to think about that little tardigradeHalf a millimetre of theoretical life.

Angus Burns

Standing loud, proud, Beholding whatever in sight Still grasping all leaves.

William Cameron

The Approach Shot.

Hundred and five out.Pressure, pitching wedge in hand. Short! Dunes of despair.

Ruairi Gillon


Beauty is randomNature needs no symmetryA sole identity

Lochlan Ing-Aram

Singing constantlyAs they welcome from above,Birds soar and take flight

Simon Knopp

Abandoned cricket pitch.

Old and abandonedMetal turning into rustRubbish on the pitch

Stephen La

A chest filled with lootStand firm, high and mighty - yetnothing but a bin

Wei-Hun Loh

A shroud of sad leavesBlanketing a sea of greenA vibrant past timeCrisp and hard textureOnce soft and lush and livelyNow sad hues of brownOnce, upon a branchThey lay, strong, proud, confident They fell, one by oneBut within the shroudSingle sprout, from deep withinBreakthrough, of fresh lifeAmong the dead leaves,A new beginning

Hamish McIntyre

Bustling to serene Colour turn to miles of green Seen to unseen

Daniel O'Brien

Immobile gum nutOblivious feet thump, "Crack"Chip off the old block

Stick of solitudeAs the motile world goes byThe tree watches on

Luka Riley

An old field, dead, yet,Another world of nature,Just beyond our grasp.

Haiku Sonnet:

An aged field,Dead, quiet, alone,Yet sounds, unmistakable,Chirping, singing, lifeA world of nature,Just beyond our grasp,Another world, Behind the scenes,Just like ours, But camouflaged.Where birds sing,Where trees sway,Where leaves rustle.Another civilization.

William Stevens

Bystander's fable.Stories told to serene fields, Whispers through blown leaves.

Finlay Tomkins

Nails stained crimson red Nerves exposed, Chilling underSkin, Imperfections

Samuel Ussher

Great tree

Great tree reach-

-es for heaven, but falls short

Of godhood and pays

The light seeps through theClouding darkness, seeking toBring hope, for a price

Ryan Zhou

White flower and weeds.

Innocent and puresetting out, sprouting slowlySnakes start to slither out