IT HAS often been said that deadlines – like hanging – concentrate the mind wonderfully. This was certainly true at the meeting of the Airedale Writers’ Circle (AWC) on April 10.

Our writing exercise that evening was to conjure up prose or poetry in any genre and with no set theme but to include in the final sentence (or line of verse) the phrase “tall trees cast long shadows”.

On a superficial level this version of a Chinese proverb states the obvious but – like many other deceptively simple sayings – it has many deeper meanings.

Consider for example what an impression great men and women such as Shakespeare or Queen Victoria still make and the persistent influence of significant events like World War One.

AWC members rose to the challenge with a wide variety of ingeniously-conceived pieces despite having had only 25 minutes to ponder and scribble.

Author and musician Chris Manners composed no fewer than four verses of lyrics eminently suitable as a basis for a rousing folk music ballad. His draft first verse went: “We hung him as a warning to the footpads on the road/ ripped his mask and scarlet coat to ribbon shreds/ that sooner come or later, but the law will have its day/ and here the lucky highwayman hangs, dead/ And the cold wind took him/ shook him to and fro/ Tall trees cast long shadows.”

Pat Farley penned a pensive portrait of a long-married couple who now coast somewhat aimlessly through life, “like leaves drifting along a canal” as she aptly put it.

Sandra Firth gave us two short poems and pointed out that when it’s dark tall trees do not cast shadows. This prompted discussion on how this could be interpreted in metaphor.

The figure of GK Chesterton (1874-1936) was held up as a writer and orator with a considerable influence in the early 20th century but who is now mostly unknown.

I wrote the only non-fiction piece of the evening, in relating the true tale of John, an 18-year-old who left Scotland in 1815 and eventually settled in Lothersdale. He married a daughter of the mill-owner there, which is how I – as one of his direct descendants – come to be writing this, in that same village, 200 years later.

Yet another twist on the evening’s exercise was provided by Lisa Firth with a rhyming rap-like rendition of similar-sounding words.

Lisa works for the renowned Dalesman magazine and has just had another romantic fiction book – Bicycle Made for Two – published, under her pen name of Mary Jane Baker, and was recently commissioned to write a short story for the Sunday People.

All are welcome to attend our meetings which are held on the second Tuesday of every month (except August) at 7.30pm in the Sight Airedale building in Scott Street, immediately behind Keighley library.