Delivering circles of support and accountability to protect communities from sexual harm and sexual reoffending


Poem from a core member

Circles use interesting and imaginative ways to connect to core members' during their time together. Sometimes people express themselves better through storytelling or the arts. This week we have a poem to show the reality of weekly meetings and the growing bond between the Circle, as well as discovering everyone's place in it and the foibles they bring.


Every Thursday, I just can’t wait,
to get to my circle, I won’t be late.
Now what’s that topic, I was given last week,
Ah yes, it’s a poem, that’s had many a tweak.

Arriving on time, so I won’t get an earful,
and Steve can’t work out, why I’m so dammed cheerful.
One at a time, we all check in,
I go to chat on…., oooooh Mary’s not been.

So now we’re on track, and the discussion hence flows,
where will it lead us, nobody knows.
A question from Mary, Maz and then Steve,
while David looks on, and mops his brow with his sleeve.

Here’s an idea, let’s all meet in town,
“nothing to noisy”, said Mary with a frown,
“if it’s to raucous, I’ll get in a tizz,
and I so want to hear the questions from the CM’s great quiz”.

In the first bar, the chatting was loud,
there’ll be nothing heard, over that great crowd.
So just down the way, a second venue,
just right for a quiz, and snacks from the menu.

Orange juice with ice, for Dave and for Maz,
while Steve debated, ordering crisps and Tapas.
Steve had a latte, coffee similar to mine,
while Mary ordered; a soda and lime.

So, who’ll win the quiz, please place your bets,
will it be the ‘Squares’, or ‘The Moody Quizettes’?
There’s lots of Um-ing, and lots of Ah-ing,
“Oh no, it’s that bloke, ginger, guitaring”.

We’re near the end, it’s been such a scream,
everyone knew about the strawberries and cream.
The papers were marked, and the scores were known,
“The squares have won it”, the Moody Quizettes did groan.

Now, the runners up thought, “we’ll try again”,
but at least they went home, with a lovely gel pen.
But the man of the match, who helped win the race,
Now! He went home, with a pen in a case.

A brilliant night was had by all,
but like Cinderella, at the ball,
my time’s eleven, so on my bike I was jumpin’
before probation, turned me into a pumpkin.

Written By a Core Member – Through The Gate Circle.

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