Wellies or Bellies by Irena Szirtes

I've only just discovered this little piece won a 100-word challenge, subject ‘Wellies or Bellies’, back in 2021! I attended a few zoom sessions with Wrekin Writers before they were able to resume face to face meets, and entered it then. I've sent for the anthology to see it printed in all its glory! It’s just a bit of fun with some personal memoir, and my ongoing obsession with boots!

Tourism, Addiction and the Dire Demise of Wellies

    City ladies? Absolutely! Still children, giggling at big-bottomed ski-pants on tottering stilettos, we relished knowing wellies worked best. Beguiled, still mud and cow-clap unaware, the ladies gifted sweeties; we told them where to find frogs.

    Soon stilettos stopped coming. Bobble hats and eye-goggling boots came instead. Walking boots! Besotted, boot-obsessed, I begged for some. Decades on, my wellies languish under boot heaps: fleece-topped, frivolous, zany and zipped, bejeweled, buckled or buttoned; laced velvet vintage, wet-look, western, red-leather-racy to soft-shell-snow-proof.

     But walking boots keep first place in my boot-a-holic’s hoard, and I can still tell you where to find frogs.

Birthday Shoes by Elaine Pearson

Someone bought me a pair of shoes today

And they’re lovely there is no doubt

But there’s something very wrong with them

And I just can’t figure it out

 

‘Cos I keep on falling over

Can’t walk more than a step or two

Lookya! There I go, I’m down again

Don’t know what I’m gonna do

 

I know, I’ll put me glasses on

Try to throw a little light on the matter

Ah, now I see what the problem is

You’ll think I’m as mad as a hatter

 

‘Cos now I can see what I’m doing

I find the cause is not so drastic

Little buggers are tied together

With a big string piece of elastic! 

Shoe Lover by Val Pedrick

for Louise

If love were an old shoe

Comfy and worn

Would it crave something new

Smart or sexy, to adorn

World weary feet

Yearning to be indiscreet?

 

Would spirits rise in stilettos

Peep-toes’ secret thoughts reveal

High boots kick away old woes

Sling-backs show a clean heel

Strappy sandals strut the beat

In city late-night-clubbing heat?

 

If love were a new shoe

Shiny and bright

Would it carry you through

Dark days into the light

Let you walk on air

Without a care?

 

Could love be; racy running shoes

A perfect pas-de-deux in ballet pumps

Husky seductive suede sneaker blues

Playful pink-wellie-booted puddle-jumps –

Shod in bejewelled mules, would your heart flip-flop

If love were new shoes -from a ‘designer’ shop?

(May 2006) 

SURVIVAL: 104 Pairs of Shoes* by Val Pedrick

Aberdeen

in the beginning, ‘faults’ were blamed

 

then, a pattern emerged;

 

weekends, holidays, a full moon

 

‘Vesuvius’, dormant

 

repined

 

ERUPTED!

 

 spewing debris

 

magma smothered comprehension

 

flames destroyed desire

 

ash smothered love

 

desolation

 

death 

* Exhibition of ‘104 pairs of shoes’ at Aberdeen Arts Centre,

6-30^th September 2003 to highlight domestic abuse

The Ballet Shoes by Elizabeth Henry

illustration: Delphine Jones

She only ever wished to dance,

To stand and point with perfect stance.

She’d ask her Ma in humble tone,

“Might I have slippers of my own?”

 

By age thirteen, she could sauté.

With heels held high, she’d relevé.

But still she had no ballet shoes,

No satin slippers she could use.

 

She’d dream and wish whilst fast asleep

That borrowed shoes were hers to keep;

She’d hold them in her tiny hands

And think of grand orchestral bands.

 

She’d practice on her bedroom floor,

Before her mirror poised and small.

Her dainty arms above her head,

Her tut stitched with silver thread.

 

Until, one day, a parcel came

Direct from France in tumbling rain.

The ink was smudged, the script had run,

The wisps of string had come undone.

 

‘Twas from an aunt she’d never met,

A charming lady called Claudette.

And placed within it was a note

That brought a lump into her throat.

 

‘Dear Analise,’ the letter read,

‘I found these shoes beneath my bed.

I’m far too old to stun and daze

But if you wear them, you’ll amaze!”

Belonging - Bilston Market - a collective poem by Bilston children

                         

Bilston market, bustling and busy,

You’ll find what you want, don’t get in a tizzy!

Shoes, cool trainers, slippers and socks,

Phone cases, headphones and merch for your X-box.

Scissors, nuts, bolts and hammers,

Wrenches, hooks, screw drivers and spanners.

Smell the pizzas, waffles, burgers and fries,

Steaming teas and coffees, hot dogs and meat pies.

Bananas, apples, oranges and lemons,

Pears, grapes, plums and melons.

Spring greens, cabbages, broccoli and potatoes,

Carrots, peas and bright red tomatoes.

Cereals, cans of coke, tins of beans piled high,

Crisps, jars of sweets and chocolate bars in abundant supply.

From batteries to bird seed,

There is everything you might need,

That’s why we love Bilston Market!