Growth
It's then,
Beyond deepest depth of despair
You'll find meaning,
And all that felt worthless
Becomes worthwhile.
And where there was no reason
A purpose begins to grow,
And that which came as failure
Becomes success and victory.
It's then and only then,
At that very point in time
You begin to grow,
When you've mastered all the pain
And you face it no longer with fear
You'll find yourself - and more.
Marge Mason, Newton Aycliffe.
The Garden
They gave me a garden
Small and bare
Perhaps I could sit
And ponder there.
But sit and ponder
I could not,
For what I could see
Was not a lot,
So with a spade
Fork, rake and hoe,
I said right
Let's have a go,
I dug and raked
With all my might,
'Til I was sure I got it right,
Then with plant and seed
I'd go over every inch
Of soil, you know,
And now, what was once
Small and bare. I see
Flowers everywhere.
Now, with the flowers
Came birds and bees. Now
I just sit and take my ease.
Walter Sinclair, Darlington.
Impossible Dream
The fruit of Eden, dust in the wind,
The Holy Books, have long since gone,
The search for greed that ruled the mind
Is overcome, all life is one.
The truth of God, we're all divine,
Eternally written with his intent,
Service to other, a soothing rhyme,
Thoughts of fear are truly spent.
The conquered shades of hate have fled,
Buried in a heavenly scene,
Which fades, I wake, I'm still in bed,
With memory of an impossible dream.
Ken Beetham, Newton Aycliffe.
Clearance
They came today to clear a space
A place for housing cars and things,
And leaving not a trace
Of the plants and shrubs once growing there.
Birds and creatures lost their space
In that frantic materialistic race,
Gone was the blossom that crept over my wall
And the colourful leaves I enjoyed in the fall.
Today it is tree stumps and tangled roots
Tomorrow the explosion of soil and earth,
Later the concrete and timber and stone
The earth replies with a hideous groan
And sadly submits to the desecration of life.
Merle Westgarth, Castleside, Consett.
Stockton In My Youth
When I first came to Stockton
I was 15 years of age,
It had England's finest High Street
And pubs were all the rage.
There were the Vane Arms and The Black Lion
And Royals big and small,
And the Grey Horse and the Phoenix
I have drank in one and all.
We had the finest market
In all of the North-East,
To walk round took you half a day
It really was a feast.
We had the Empire and the Odeon
And the Globe with all its stars,
You had dances at the Maison
And little coffee bars.
We had lots of supermarkets
In the centre of the town,
Then along came their planners
To pull the whole lot down.
Presto, Hintons, Duncans
And Asda in West Row,
Even Walter Willson's
But the whole lot had to go.
In my view the High Street
Is really in a mess,
Do you look left or right
Is anybody's guess?
So let's turn back the clock once more
To Nineteen Fifty Seven,
And walk through Stockton town again
We'll all be back in heaven.
Derek Robinson, Stockton.
To MAFF
Blot out screams and block out cries,
Stifle their groans and avert your eyes,
Scrub hard, wash away their warm smelling blood,
Authority's right and knows what's good.
Shoot them! Shoot them! Ignore their eyes,
Astonished, accepting, they drop like flies.
But in among the grisly heap
Of bloodstained carcasses, a sheep
Still moves - what horror she must feel,
Her heaven becomes hell and hell becomes real.
And you walk past, just bow your head,
How can you sleep at night in bed?
JEM Lonsdale, Chester-le-Street.
Missing You
Did you mean it when you said
That you loved me with all your heart?
Did you hear the words I whispered to you
The day we had to part?
Oh, why then do these negative thoughts
Go whirling around my brain,
Like the thunderous crash of the sea on the rocks
Or the roar of an express train.
But then I see flowers blooming
And remember a sweet bouquet
Or hear the church bells claiming
Someone's happy wedding day.
It's then that the negative thoughts
(Foolishly allowed to darken a day)
Are immediately forgotten
And gladly washed away.
Olga Ramshaw, West Rainton.
So Long Ago
Some time ago I went to see the house of my "teenage" years
And when I gazed upon it my eyes were full to tears,
So many memories it brought back of days when I lived there,
A house that was always filled with joy and mum cleaned it with much care.
I thought of happy times with friends, family parties that were fun,
The card games we often played and laughed if we lost or won.
I looked at the garden, where was the hedge that used to be at its base?
Alas now gone and there I saw a garage in its place,
For in those days we had no car, but we could always choose
To walk up all the hilly roads, or the tramcar we would use,
The garden gate was missing, it made me very sad
To think of how the garden was tendered by my dad.
The fields we used to look upon, always fresh and green
Now all gone and in their place more houses filled the scene.
People I knew had moved away, and the house atmosphere it did lack
Which proves the age old saying: "One never should go back".
But when I think about it, what did I expect to find?
I should have let the memory just stay there in my mind.
Jean Allaway, Darlington.
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