Vera Kulkarni started with a sonnet in her school magazine. She never looked back. 
A prime mover behind the Write Together project, she runs Seafield Publishing and Workshops in 
South Tyneside. She has had her work published in The Page, Hybrid, The Crack, Molten Metal, 
and in The Biscuit Tin (Biscuit Publishing), The Blue Room Anthology, Poems for Midwinter 
(Cherrybite Publications), Hear my Song, (JC/MC Books), and Poetry in Action  (Kala Sangam), etc. 
Her first book, funded by Northern Arts, was Women and Children First. 
Recently, she organised two open creative writing competitions for Seafield Publishing. 
The anthology from the 1992 Competition, Mildew and Mandarins is now ready for the printers.
 

Bring on the Tempest:

I read about the death of good saint Bade
and grieve as thought just yesterday, he died
with his last breaths, translating Latin screeds
to English, for the common man, monks write
“The Gospel of St. John.” His life’s work done,
his star shines foremost in the firmament
of  Heaven; spreads his holy light upon
the darkest shadows and the souls of men.
Ascension Eve, 737 AD,
he died. He loved to write, to teach and learn.
He spent most of his life in monasteries:
Monkwearmouth and Jarrow on Tyne.
His sacred tomb’s carved: “hac sunt in fossa
Baedae venerabitis ossa”.

My bones are crumbling; cracking in my neck.
I listen to cervical vertebrae;
they grind and crunch when I rotate my head.
I kneel on these arthritic knees to pray,
“Bring on the Tempest, let it blow, force ten.
My craft is anchored now, the river’s slow.
I’m sheltered from the storm, the wind, ice and snow.
I rest my back against a pillowed bed;
look out the window to the ebbing Tyne.
The blood within my veins has turned to lead.
I choose a pen to write my closing lines.
Bring on the Tempest, Lord and let it blow.
My journey’s done. There’s no more miles to go”


 
NB Hac..ossa, translated: Here in this tomb are the bones of Venerable Bede.