Poetry

Ahem! I appeared to have duplicated my message.  Sorry about that -- I inadvertantly pressed a side button on my mouse and thought I'd lost everything so retyped it

Harry

Here is something on a lighter note...

Harry.

Secrets of the Forest


As I wander through the forest and listen to the trees
Whispering softly in the breeze
So many secret stories could unfold
Stories that, until now remain untold

Tell me forest - tell me a secret, please
You must have many hidden within your trees
Secret stories of an animal or a bird
Unspoken ‘til now for fear they will be heard

Tell me forest – tell me please
You must have secrets among your leaves
Some that so far have never been told
Perhaps by lovers, both young and old

Tell me forest – tell me please
Tell me slowly, by degrees
If you have secrets that you can disclose
Tell me forest, some of those

Tell me forest – tell me please
Tell me your secrets, my mind to tease
Tell me forest – you can confide in me
I’ll never tell anyone – you’ll see.

NO I DID NOT!!

Oh well, here is another poem:

Fishing


I follow down the well-worn path      
To seek the secret fishing pool           
Beyond the ageing railway track
Where murky waters lay deep and cool
And seem to whisper, “don’t turn back”

Where Dad and I spent many days
With rods and reels
And lines stretched taut
No words need ever pass between us
We each understood the other’s thoughts

Now I’m alone, no-one to share
Those memorable days of yesteryear
He leaves with me the lies to tell;
His augmentation of stories he told
Of fish, magnificent and bold.

I descend the muddy river banks
And turn to God and offer thanks
For all His wonders here on Earth
And for the time that He is spending
Looking after my dear old Dad

As I stand beside the water,
Silence, but for Sirocco’s breathing
High above in ancient trees.
I’m sure I hear him call -
“Cast over there, son, into the breeze.”

Thanks, Andy. 

 Did you know that most coastal areas of Southern Britain , and certainly most of Scotland, were totally denuded of oak trees in the sixteenth century, such was the demand for timber for shipbuilding?  We appear to have learned nothing.

Harry

I can well believe it Harry. In fact, on my regular trips to Scotland the results are still evident. Fifty or so miles into Scotland there are mountains with large forests that are being cut down, whole swathes of land that are now barren because of what they are doing to the trees still. I hope they plant a new sapling for every tree they destroy.

Luckily, the New forest in Hampshire is still a very large size, although Sherwood forest, not far from where I now live, seems to have been invaded by farmland (fairly) recently.

An

Spirit Horses




Eyes flashing fiercely, over tree-tops they fly,
Manes of gold sparkling to light up the sky
With legs of green, making no sound
Magical powers lifting them off the ground.

Hrimfaxi, the nocturnal steed of the night
Showered upon Earth, sweet dew to delight,
And moisten the start of each new morn
Skinfaxi the magnificent horse of the dawn
The glow from his mane lighting up the days
Reflecting the light from the sun’s rays
Fiery chariots, harnessed in tow
Out into the universe they would go
From the mystical middle Earth they soar
Their journeys to continue forever more
Sent into the cosmos by the ancient deities
Their tasks of rotation to eternally please
Each day they instruct the sun to shine
Followed at night by the moon, benign
Thoroughbreds of the sky god, Allfather, were they
Of pagan images they would stay
Whose tasks known only to wizards and shamans
Practitioners of spells and mystical omens

other poem based on Norse mythology.

Harry

Thank you Wolf/Peter. I thoroughly enjoy writing --on any subject.  I do have a sense of guilt with regard to a short story I submitted recently titled Jack Robbins.  After posting it I had some reservations that it was inappropriate for this forum.  The reason I displayed the work was simply to highlight that words can take one to many areas`of life.  I sincerely hope no one was offended, and can accept my explanation

On a lighter note, did you read my words of welcome to Poe?  I noted you, too, had not returned to England in forty years. I agree, the memories never die.

 Harry

Titanic

Mighty ships that go down to the sea
Titanic, magnificent she would be
Bedecked, adorned and opulent
No limit on the money spent
She began her voyage, maiden
With passengers and crew heavily laden
The upper class on higher floor,
Steerage for the unfortunate poor
From Southampton’s southern Port
A magnificent sight, everyone thought
The pride of England’s White Star Line
A nation’s glory, magnificent and fine
Into Atlantic’s murky waters she sailed
To fanfare, and with decks regaled
All excited at the history-making
And of which everyone was partaking
Alas, it was the owner’s need for greed
That Titanic’s captain pushed for speed
Into the darkest, freezing night
She gallantly steamed on, a ghostly sight
Then eventually, the worst occurred
The lookout’s anguished voice was heard
“Avast there! Icebergs ahead”
But merriment and music went on instead
“This beautiful ship cannot sink,”
The Master said, and all would think
The lookout’s words were wrong
And all aboard continued with wine and song
Then, suddenly, the ship was shaken
The lookout above was not mistaken
A massive berg loomed up ahead
The sight filled everyone with dread
As Titanic’s plates of steel were rent
And so began the worst sea event
Freezing water gushed through the holes
Trapping many of the poorer souls
Their accommodation lower down
Flooded quickly and many would drown.
In the upper decks there was confusion
Now no one was under the illusion
The ship was safe and would not flounder
And the captain knew he could not save her
“Abandon ship!”The order was stated
Amid screams of those who could not be placated
The boats were lowered as the ship submersed
The call went out -”Women and children first”
Others ignored the captain’s command
Among them was the Titanic s band
They stayed, to end their days in watery graves
As the ship finally slid beneath the waves
Their final tones, as they disappeared into the sea
Hauntingly, were, “Nearer My God to Thee.”