April 29th, 2008

9:31am Tuesday 29th April 2008

ROMANY MIN ELSKIN

Open your window, my darling

And look at the crescent moon,

Watch the gypsies go riding by

For morning will come too soon.

The gypsy told me my true love

Would come to her window this night.

I crossed her palm with silver

She promised my heart's delight.

Oh! The times and the ways she promised

We shall be together as one,

Climbing the far off mountains,

Or watching the rising sun.

We shall roam the world with its glories,

Its beauties and wonders to see.

Come home to our beautiful England

To our kingdom by the sea.

You are my beautiful, fair lady,

Through my life there'll only be you.

Tell me the gypsy's promises

Will one day really come true.

So open your window, darling,

And look at the crescent moon

It's the doorway to heaven opening

Pan calls with his lovely tune.

Ida McAninly, Tow Law, Durham

THE PHEASANT

The cock bird's plumage is beautiful,

Hen bird's colour is brown,

as a mother wonderful.

The cock bird is, with tail, three feet long

His voice crows, flaps wings, he is strong.

Nests in hollow of ground

Ten to 14 eggs are found.

Pheasants need thick cover to thrive,

Also plenty of water to survive.

They walk and run fast, looking trim

All pheasants can really swim.

First imported by the Romans to England

Then reared by them on English land.

The cock bird's colours are famous.

Pheasants by nature are polygamous.

Roosts in trees, otherwise a ground bird.

Take my word that's what I heard.

For food they eat roots, acorn, berries and grain,

Find them on arable and pasture in Britain.

On a cock's head you will see a spur,

But the hen - no spur for her.

Mother bird feeds chicks on insects

I am sure they are the weaker sex.

Seeing a cock pheasant

The sight is very pleasant.

Alfred Smirk, Darlington

MUSIC MOVES

Music,

Attitude is kicking me,

As I twist, caught, tones treble taut, notes tremble,

Black leather,

Satin,

Songs and bubbles, happiness, giving way to the music,

As my back slips - should I stay, should I go.

I long for the melody to carry on,

Songs and buckles, as the music turns on,

up, giving way to the tempo,

Back slips,

Beneath, as skirts lift and petticoats fly, as rhythm slips,

And bodies fly.

Eye to eye, beats click,

Resistance nicked, as I dance to the sky,

Music timed.

Alison Carr, Bishop Auckland

POLLY

Polly was a dales mare

that pulled the milk cart

Round Sherburn village for many a year.

And for the men that worked with her

Polly would create no fear.

She would start her shift by being told gee up

Then for the rest of the journey never told to go or stop.

A pet to all the villagers

she received tit-bits on her way.

When it came to snap time she would not

move till she had her nose bag full of hay.

Carter's farm a mile from the village

was the last delivery

And knowing that it was the end of the shift

She enjoyed the trot back to the livery.

Through hail, rain and snow

Polly toiled from year to year

So people could have their milk delivered

Fresh to their doorstep every day.

Tony Mayhew, ex-Sherburn Village

THE STRANGER

He's there every morning, sometimes at night

Every time I see him, he gives me a fright.

The hanging skin, the double chin,

The bloodshot eyes, the silent cries.

The dirty hair, the empty stare,

The soulless eyes that do not care

The devil's kin, with a nasty grin,

The rubbish bin, with a blotchy skin.

Where did he come from,

this spectre of horror

Is this vision of sorrow my tomorrow?

Has this stranger won, has he taken me

over?As I stare in the mirror,

I wish I was sober.

NL Kellett, Sunnybrow, nr Crook

A MINER MANY YEARS AGO

I was only a coalminer

that worked underground

I toiled and slaved all the year round

Fretting my young life away.

I worked hard and received poor pay.

I was shut up in a dismal, dark, dirty mine.

From God's pure air, from heaven

where sun does not shine.

Stripped down to my hogger's pants

like some beast of old

The sweat ran down my back

like Coxhoe Beck stream

I braved death and danger

to earn a crust of bread

While many lay warm and

comfortable in their beds.

The knocker upper comes at three o'clock

Wakens me up from my sleep

with a thunderous knock.

I had to rise from my bed and get on my feet

Put my dirty pit clothes on

and get something to eat

I barely had time to get my cigarette lit

I must hurry as fast as I could to the pit

When I got to the shaft

miners would stand around

And wait in turn for the cage to go down

Lowmain the backsman would say

Nearly on the bottom send her away.

Down the mine we decend into gloom.

All is pitch dark and as silent as a tomb

Far away from home and his family

he loves so dear

The brave pit lad - no danger does he fear

We would get out of the cage

with a long way to go

At 6ft 2ins tall I would travel half double -

the roof was so low

We would stop for a few minutes

and time for a rest

Thinking I wish I was home

in my little warm nest.

So now dear comrades

you have heard my old rhyme

A word of advice from an old friend in time

Let brotherly love be your motto in life

And unity must be the word to all

United we must stand or divided we will fall

And when from this earth

we must all bid adieu

Let our past record prove

we where faithful and true.

Jimmy Taylor, Coxhoe, Durham

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