Category: Poems

#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.

To Our Friends in Canada

Brightly burns the glow of friends
constant, true and pure
No one can claim he has no kin
where Love always endures

A lamp that´s lit by Kin´s red flame
of blood spilt on the earth
for need of Love, a better life
on your land boats did berth

The boys who glowed within the light
were taken in your arms
for in the darkness their was hope
of new lives safe from harm

So to friends on distant shores
for many and the few
and a toast to those we cannot name
lost in the sea of blue

Lilac Poem

Lilac

Last night I dreamt of Lilac trees,

Upon the Garnock Stream,

amid the thorns and briars thick

a purple colour beamed

 

I thought about the folk who came

and chanced upon this sight

perhaps ancestors, long since gone

left it burning bright

 

Perhaps a bird did carry it

from far and distant lands

or from a child´s hands it fell

and grew to proudly stand

 

Or from the Castle seeds did blow

across the glade and vine

to where the lovers meet in quiet

with bodies deep entwined

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#poem About A Rowan Tree, #kilbirnie #northayrshire

I’ve been writing poetry about Kilbirnie and the area for many years now. You can see all of them here on my site. This one is about the Rowan Tree which was in my Grandfather’s garden in Castle Drive. Its likely still there.

In the shade of Grandpa’s house
There stood a Rowan Tree
Where my Brother tried to climb
With Rosalyn and me

Every day my Grandpa came
Admired towering boughs
While we as children playing there
Saw darkened twigs and crows

Shadows hung upon his life
With towering darkened power
Yet we as children plain could see
Their withering every hour

Its leaves held back the sunshine light
Its branches stern with years
Sitting with his chair and pipe
It calmed away his fears

Yet we as children playing in sight
Saw only twigs and leaves
Revealing more of sky to us
Than he could ever see

We pointed up at shafts of light
Throughout the darkened power
Whilst he preferred the shaded glade
To pass the wakened hour

We saw sun and endless days
Upon his chair he sat
Despite the passing years it stood
The tree was sound at heart

#glengarnock #poem #northayrshire

If Glengarnock were a nightingale
All day it’s song would sing
Around the houses, through the streets
Oh the joy that it would bring

It’s tiny feet upon the roofs
Of buildings, trees and lawns
Spreading joy on little wings
And chirping at the dawn

Songs of hope and thanksgiving
For all the good thats here
From Auchengree to Barkip farm
With eyes so crisp and clear

And by the station trees it sits
For all the passers by
None can silence joy and hope
As the bird soars in the sky

On the coldest winter morn
Or by the frozen burn
The bird will chirp its peace and love
At every waking turn

And on the happy days of spring
While children take to rest
The little bird at Longbar farm
Will nestle in its nest

#northayrshire poem for #glengarnock station #scotland

One thought I had of you today
As people crowded by
Of sending soldiers on there 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.

#northayrshire poem about the river Garnock #scotland #kilbirnie

River Garnock

Turn ye, turn ye hands of time
Like a clock about to chime
Running through a hundred towns
Claiming lives and rings and crowns

Giving life to work and mills
With your spout deep in the hills
Jacob´s Well I could not find
My elders left no trace, no sign

Then in rage you burst your banks
People curse you, none give thanks
Wounded like an open knife
Knox´s Mill you still give life