Len's Writings!

These are a few of what I like to call my writings, for want of a better word. Verse, poems call them what you will. They are really just a collection of stuff I make up when I am out and about in the wilds of Northumberland with my Dog. I hope you like them. I know Cindy Lou does. Well, at least I think she does. It is something I have always done, even before photography; make up stuff. They are of no particular subject. Just whatever comes into my head at the time. Sometimes I write them down sometimes I don't. I have never shown them to anyone until just recently when I happened to mention to a friend that I wrote stuff and the suggestion was I should include them on my website. So, here they are. I do hope you like them.

Olde Jack

Each day he comes and sits by the dock, Old Jack.
His hair and his beard once black as the night,
now white as the waves on the shore.
His back no more as straight as a mast,
but now crooked and bent as the keel of a ship.
But each day he comes and sits by the dock, Old Jack,
he and his faithful dog Ben.

Old Ben has been is companion for many a year,
as long as anyone knows
And never a time have they been apart,
nay not even for one day alone.
They say for nigh on thirty or more years they have been at each others side,
he and Old Jack
Or say those that know him the most.
Old Ben is no bigger than two hands high,
and his coat like Jack is turning to grey
And old Ben once proud and alert
his pace beginning to slow
Alas poor Ben does not walk as fast as he used.
But twice daily he follows side by side,
as he and old Jack walk the long street from home,

They say you can set the time of the tide by when the old man appears at the dock
Just him and his faithful dog Ben.
Twice daily he comes and sits on the old bollard post,
now rusted and pitted with age.
He knocks out his pipe in the palm of his hand and nods at the fisherman as they go bye.
’Twas here where once his own boat was moored,
when he was younger of course. Aye and before him his fathers and his fathers too,
and way back to when Noah was a lad
Or so I'm told by those who know him the most,
If that is anyone really knows, Old Jack.

They say he once had a son, his name was Jack too.
Or so the old story goes.
But young Jack was lost to the perilous sea
Three score and ten years past this winter last gone.,
Aye that’s when it was.
As thunderous waves washed thier boat to the rocks
Out yon on the old jagged tooth to the South,
where many a boats lost her ground in the fog.
And the old man wept at the side of quay, shaking and moaning his loss
As they pulled only him from the jaws of old death., shivering and wet from the cold
And swearing never to go to the sea again.
not without his only loved son,
Nay never again without his son, now lost to the dark deepen depths. Poor Old Jack

And so it was as Jack mourned his loss,
the cruel fate of destiny held up her hand
And cursd him again and again. Old Jack
And that very same winter which was bitterly cold
His wife died from fever on a cold cloudless night and poor jack was left all alone,
Save for his faithful companion the dog he once saved , a long time past.
Was on a night such as this many years gone bye
When he found the old dog half drowned in the sea
And he took him home to care for his needs and swore to treat him just right, did old Jack

But life went on for Jack and his dog as life has a habit of doing
And soon as the months healed his mournful loss, they both went to sea once more
Just Ben and the old man Jack.
For the sea was his life and what else could he do he was after all a fisherman's son.

But now too old to haul the nets, he still remembers his life out at sea
And he still thinks of his son and his wife now long gone every day of his life yet to be.
So he gives thanks to the Lord that he still has Ben his trusty companion and dog.
And each day he comes down to the dock to watch the young fishermen go
And then again on the rise of the tide, glad that they are all safe home once more.
And then off he goes home with a smile on his face
His daily task done and complete.
Lighting his pipe with a shaking hand ,with his old faithful dog Ben down by his side.
Good Old Jack.

Ode to Grace Poem

Ode to Grace

Wake girl, wake from your slumber so deep.
Look quick to the east I bid thee fair maid
From the old Longstone lighthouse that is your home.
Stare hard my girl through the dark and the gloom
As the raging storm boils like a cauldron the waves.
Ti’s not a night to venture out side.

Yet there on the rocks with her back crushed and broken
The Forfarshire slumbers like a whale washed to shore
Already she sinks to the ocean below
With 40 and more wretches lost to the deep.
But look quickly to Harker and the rock to the east.
Look there through the storm, stare hard through the night
There clinging to rocks a handful of souls scramble for life.
Praying for safety amongst tempestuous seas and the cold of the night.

Then go girl, run as fast as you can,
wake your father from his own restful sleep
Tell him of things you have seen from afar
Of the poor souls that still cling to life’s precious last
And how you must save them from the seas icy grasp.
Now hurry you both to the row boat beneath
Go quickly to succour those that still need your help.

Run hard and fast, and think now not of home and the comfort that's there
Or the wind that lashes the waves on your face
Like a cat o'nine tails that stings to the bone.
Think not of yourself but the poor wretches yon.
And how only you can offer them hope.

Row Grace row the mile of the sea
E’er though your hands are cold and so numb.
No matter the pain or the ravages of sea
As it tosses your boat like a cork in a pond.
Row Grace row not far now to go,
Through the black swirling waves and the howl of the wind.
The cries of the lost ring forth like a bell
Then at last the Harker draws near,
you have done your job well.
my love, my Dear
But no time to ponder on the brave act you’ve shown
There is more to be done before you can turn home

Now hold fast my love against the tide and the swell,
As your father plucks yon souls from the rock, one by one.
Now help them aboard my bonny wee lass
For they are safe now plucked from the jaws of old blessed death.
And to you they give thanks for the life they have won.
Dear Grace the heroin and saviour of all.
Now girl turn broadside and head for home And take these poor souls to safety and warmth
For from this day forth you will be remembered afar
No more as a lighthouse mans daughter, or just Grace
But now as the seafarers friend and Goddess. of man.

Look to the east

Look To The East

When yon bracken withers and the old tree doth shed her dark golden tears Then look to the east for the dark winter cometh With nights of cold winds that chill to the bone Another year passes on these barren, bleak fells
Yet naught ever tempts me to leave this place
Nor why would I you for this is my home and my grace,
I tis just me and my dog that must tend yonder sheep
For without me to love them they would wither and die
And so once more I grow old, as I wait my lost love
Here huddled alone in my bothy of stone
With naught but memories of long Summer days
Remembering my lassie beside me as we dance through the corn.


The Devil & The Angel

The Devil & The Angel

The devil did a frightening go one bright and sunny day.
And there he did an angel spy sitting up a tree.
Pray tell me little angel, the devil asked with glee
Why do you sit up there so high, so far above me tell?

Tis really me you fear I do believe its true
Am I right, or am I wrong please tell me angel do?
Tis such a fearsome look I have I cannot tell a lie
Enough to frighten any child to make them run and hide.
Pray tell me pretty angel please tell me truly do
Tis really I you fear please tell me that's it true.

My ears are extra large I know, my horns so sharp and real
My tail that swishes to and fro so long and pointed- feel
My chin that sticks out from my face a horror to bestow
My eyes so fiery red it matches with my cloak
My crooked legs with cloven hooves a thing to turn your head.
So tell me pretty Angel am I not to dread?
It is because of me you fear and tremble in your bed.

The Angel smiles and nods her head the Devil he does leer.
Pray not so my Lord tis not you I truly dread and fear
Nor can I ever tell a lie, of that you can sure.
No Angel worth her salt or wanton ways would dare.
A thing so bold would never do for one so good as I. Tis more than golden halos would allow to tell you wanton lies
No. No dear devil I tell you now of this you can be sure.
I fear the Lord would strike me dumb to tell you such untruths.

is not you I fear I truly tell, with hand upon my heart
Tis but the beastly thing I see behind you even as we speak
A thing that even You I think is uglier than can be told
A thing that even Angels fear more than men so bold.
Its teeth so sharp its crooked smile a hideous awful gape
Who's name that even Angels would barely dare to speak
But even as you stand, I fear your times is short
For yon crocodile with glint in eye his dinner soon you'll make.