Accrington Web
   

Home Gallery Arcade Blogs Members List Today's Posts
Go Back   Accrington Web > AccyWeb > Music, Bands, Noise!
Donate! Join Today

Music, Bands, Noise! Want to talk about the latest tunes or find like minded musicians in our area, this place is for you!


Welcome to Accrington Web!

We are a discussion forum dedicated to the towns of Accrington, Oswaldtwistle and the surrounding areas, sometimes referred to as Hyndburn! We are a friendly bunch please feel free to browse or read on for more info.
You are currently viewing our site as a guest which gives you limited access to view most discussions and access our other features. By joining our free community you will have access to post topics, photos, play in the community arcade and use our blog section. Registration is fast, simple and absolutely free, so please, join our community today!



Reply
 
LinkBack Thread Tools
Old 27-03-2007, 15:15   #1
Senior Member+
 
kestrelx's Avatar
 

Poetry's in the Air!

Hi Folks, They say that Poetry is songs without music - so here is a couple of my poems! hey hey hey!



Ghost of the long lost snipe.

A long time ago when I lived up north
There was a field of rushes
Most times I walked through it
I oft’ surprised a snipe
That exploded from it’s rushy home
Zigzagging on rapid wings

Then when spring came on those pink tinged eves
And the green grass became alive
The snipe would buzz high in the sky
As it made it’s dizzy dive
Up and down, up and down
But I never found a snipe’s nest – no never!

Now they built a road through the snipe’s abode
And many houses too
So the snipe does buzz no more
Only thing that does are the engines of all those cars
As they pollute the once clean air
And stop the running of the mad march hare
Beneath the ghost of the long lost snipe.




On Viking wings.

On Viking wings
The peregrine swings
Through curves of cold blue air

Over ancient hills
The steel blue plumes
Support effortless motion

The curlew cries
The wild duck dives
The walker stops in awe

Like a cruise missile
Or a Saxon arrow
Through history of England’s time

From royal glove to slatey perch
From ancient fists
The bird did carve it’s way

Through gold ringed eyes
And spitfire shadows
The peregrine spots it’s target

Now see it fly
As the plover broods
The racing pigeon flutters

Aye it flutters from the sky
As the falcon grabs and carries it.
Back in Burnley someone’s pigeon won’t come home again!


21st February 2007!
kestrelx is offline   Reply With Quote
Accrington Web
Reply




Other sites of interest.. More town sites..




All times are GMT. The time now is 00:39.


© 2003-2013 AccringtonWeb.com



Search Engine Friendly URLs by vBSEO 3.6.1