Your poems

(Inspired by The Northern Echo's Christmas ghost story)

In ageing street, ghost-like figure in top hat

Stands in ramshackle doorway,

Evading all sight, and sound,

Captured by a writer's pen

Opens upon a picture street scene

Where trampling feet once scurried on by.

Ghostly figure, stands a foe

In grime that lingers in Post House Wynd.

Shop sign's a clothier, an all-inviting shave, sir,

Rugs, carpets, wares, C Stamp, Saddler.

An old wrought iron arch that bears a name, Old Dun Cow,

There in windowpanes above, ageing ghostly face, peering eyes,

Casting an eerie stillness, gas lamp flicker,

Captivated, of days gone by.

Mabel Maryse Johnson, Newton Aycliffe.

Whatever Happened To Snow?

Whatever happened to snow and

the bitter cold winters we used to know?

When the wind raged from the east,

It was no good for man nor beast.

And Jack Frost rattled on the window pane

warning of the coming of sleet and rain.

I sigh with nostalgic pleasure

when my childhood I recall

And the first thing I saw on rising

was winter's first snowfall.

Myriads of flakes glinted like diamonds

reflecting the pale winter sun shining down.

No, I've not forgotten Jack Frost's push

nipping toe as well as finger,

And crisp white snow turned to dirty grey slush

that seemed to forever linger.

Then I felt an icy blast.

Could it be there's snow at last?

Mary Wright, Shildon.

Sospan Fach (SPF)

SPF sailed far and wide,

SPF returned at eventide.

Stars shone bright o'er the sea mist,

The moon peered bleak and kissed Pendour.

I've sailed the seas for years and more

With songs to sing and yarns in store

Of oceans, princes, princedoms, kings

Wearing silken robes and diamond rings.

Now my planks of seasoned teak

Are warped, uncorked and rather weak.

I now no longer thrive on thrills,

But yearn to stride my ayne Welsh hills.

So to the port I come abreast

From Hell's high waters seek Heaven's rest.

Young boys, tars and captains carried,

Safe now on dry land and happily married.

G Webster, Darlington.

These Things I Remember

We met and married a long time ago

We worked for long hours when wages were low.

No TV, no wireless, no bath, times were hard.

Just cold water taps and a walk down the yard.

No holidays abroad, no carpets on the floors.

We had coal-burning fires

And did not lock the doors.

Our children arrived, no pill in those days

And they were brought up

Without any State aids.

They were safe to go out and play in the park

And old folk could go out for a walk in the dark.

No valium, no drugs and no LSD,

We cured most of our ills with a good cup of tea.

No vandals, no muggers, there was nothing to rob.

We felt we were rich with a couple of bob.

People were happier in those bygone days,

More caring and kinder in so many ways.

Milkmen and paper boy would whistle and sing

And a night at the pictures was like a mad fling.

We all got our share of struggle and strife,

We just had to face it as a pattern of life.

And now I'm alone I look back through the years

But I don't think of bad times, the trouble and tears.

I remember the blessings of our home and our love

And that we shared them together, I thank God up above.

Jenny Evans, Bowburn.

Persistent Spin Doctor

History tells us of the peoples' stand

Of both Russia and France throughout their land.

The workers were exploited by rich men's power,

Till they took a stand in their finest hour.

It is a lesson that we all should heed

Power can be toppled by too much greed.

Our country's wealth should be spread more fair,

So that every person should get their share.

The millions wasted on the Dome

Could have relieved the pressure in many a home.

Surely in your wisdom you must see the wrong

And reverse the trend to show you're strong.

We've fought, we've worked, we've been on ration

But saying "our country" was our passion.

The call came and we did our best

And many were lost and laid to rest.

We were all united and took a stand

To keep our enemies from our land.

Victory came but at a great expense

Did we suffer all that for 75 pence?

E Askew, Kirk Merrington.

Furbelows and Frills

I've been invited to a wedding and I'm in a bit of a tizzy,

Everybody's buying new outfits, all are exceptionally busy.

They asked: "What are you wearing." I replied: "Probably leather.

"One has to be prepared, living in this inclement weather."

I like to think I'm a biker, my red leather suit being a winner.

(Maybe I could go on a diet and become a wee bit thinner.)

As for a hat - my helmet's black, I could attach a rose.

Imagine the wedding photos when Yours Truly takes a pose.

Do you think the priest would allow me to do a 'wheelie' down the aisle

I suppose not, because the carpet is of red, plush pile.

They might ask me to be a bridesmaid, now that's what I would like.

And hear the harmonious choir singing: "Here comes the bike."

But I promise to behave myself, it's the 'couple's day' not mine.

So I'll buy a dress and a floppy hat and toast their health with a glass of wine.

Olga Ramshaw, West Rainton.

Reflection

When you look in the mirror what do you see?

A reflection of what you'd like to be.

As we grow older day by day,

Still in our minds our youth doth stay.

The greying hair and the tiny lines,

Don't register in the inner mind.

Remember this when next you peer,

This is your face while you are here.

It's what you are and how you work.

From doing right you must not shirk.

When God's love is in your eye,

Such shining joy will never die.

The real you shows in the way you act,

In the way you live, in actual fact.

Your body is but an earthly shell

Wherein your eternal Spirit dwells.

So if to Heaven you would go,

Let God's love within you show.

Fran Vincent, Skeeby, Richmond.

Post Christmas

Cards down

Tinsel down

Tree down

Holly down

Credit card up!

Shirley Wilson, Guisborough.