mctaggartjoseph7 – Page 12 – Kilbirnie, Local History and Cultural Things

#Poem #Glengarnock Station #NorthAyrshire

Glengarnock Station

One thought I had of you today
As people crowded by
Of sending soldiers on their way
Till 1945

Mothers kissed and lover’s words
Then anxious notes you passed
Bringing news of hero’s deaths
Or home bound boys at last

Pavements wet with women’s tears
For boys, to welcome home
While others sat in darkened rooms
Both silent and alone

Then later in your ageing years
Cemented floors did bloom
With flowers, lovely colours bright
While mighty engines boomed

Then darkness came with Beeching’s words
Your branches they were slain
For all your older dearest friends
Were killed for London’s gain

Now you stand with empty home
No soldiers pass your way
A house lies derelict above
Where once a guardsman stayed

You carried folk to far off lands
To meet their boats and planes
Babies laughing, children coughed
Sheltering from smoggy rains

There’s few stand now in early morn
Upon your tired brow
Yet ne’r can match those wartime scenes
Of hundreds, cheering crowds.

#kilbirnie #poem #northayrshire #scotland

If kilbirnie was a harp with strings
I’d surely sweep a strain,
An everlasting melody
Which no man could restrain

I’d write a song of thanksgiving
Of peace and love and cheer
To bless the town with all its woes
Bring pleasure to their ears

I’d play the song on knoxville road
And at the Walker Hall
I’d play it at the Labour club
While drunkards take their fall

I’d play the harp so silently
For those who hate the sound
To aid them out of hopelessness
To turn their lives around

I’d sweep a strain of sad refrain
At steel works passing by
I’d touch upon a melody
And older folks would cry

I’d play it softly at the match
While folks would cheer their team
And move along the park so long
To watch the Garnock stream

I’d play the harp across the tracks
As cyclists speed me by
I’d play and wait at graveyard’s gates
For mourners with their sighs

I’d play it at the Garnock’s heart
Right up at Jacob’s Well,
where no one goes to see it flow
Or care to even tell

I’d play a tune right at the school
The Children would be pleased
I’d pass the harp to little ones
To hold upon their knees

So to the town with all my sounds
And everlasting strains
I leave the harp right at the cross
For others who remain

To strain their sounds of happiness
And hope for all the town
To watch it grow with sadness no!
As an everlasting crown.

Townhead, Kilbirnie, Ayrshire C.1880

This is an interesting photo of Townhead, Kilbirnie Ayrshire. The remains of Martin´s Shed (only a bit of a wall) can still be seen today just down from the supermarket (which was Morrisons), on the other side of the road in a little alcove behind some bushes. In this picture Martin´s shed is the white building in the middle. Kilbirnie Brethren Assembly first met here in the 1800s as well as the Good Templars Hall in Bridgend, Kibirnie, before they built the Gospel Hall in Schoolwynd 1897, on the site where Jamie Clifford was born.

Townhead – pre-1900s

Townhead – today

Poems of Kilbirnie and Glengarnock

I have just published a book of poetry about Kilbirnie an Glengarnock, you can otder it as an Ebook or a paperback. Here is the link to the UK Amazon edition, the book is available in all Amazon stores worldwide

http://amzn.eu/d/4cro4EX

Garnethill Synagogue Glasgow

Doors Open Day 2018

Major General Sir. Charles Mathew and #Kilbirnie War Memorial

An article written in the 1990s while in Dublin for the Pioneer Magazine.

What Does Wexford and a small town in the

Southwest of Scotland have in Common?

General Sir Charles Massey Mathew, a celebrated War Hero from the First World War. Sir Charles was born in Wexford, Ireland in 1866, educated privately at Portsmouth Grammar School, started his career in the Durham Light Infantry, in 1884.

Continue reading “Major General Sir. Charles Mathew and #Kilbirnie War Memorial”