kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

#kilbirnie Colonel Hugh McDonald Watson #ww1 #northayrshire

I don’t know much about him except that he lived in Muirend Street, Kilbirnie.This picture was published in the Ardrossan and Saltcoats Herald during the first World War, with an article about his excellent service record. If you know anything else, let me know.

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

My #Grandmother #poem

My Grandmother

Standing at the window back,
Playing solitaire
Watching all the cars move by
Without a worldly care

No wifi box, nor mobile phone,
No longing in her eyes
A peaceful soul, that Love enfolds
Watching the day’s sunrise

A greeted smile, with teapot on
When e’er someone did call
Tales of yesterday were spun
Until the night did fall

And then arrived my grandpa home
“Came aff the 2 tae 10”
With dinner made she would persuade
Some chores before his bed

Just like the Queen of Hearts, she played
The cards she knew and dealt
We were appointed knaves and Jacks
And served her kingdom well

But woe the man who dared to say
Or challenge her kingdom
For with one stare or deathly glare
was banished e’er so soon

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

The Oak: #Poem about #Kilbirnie #northayrshire

The Oak

If all who claimed to love someone
Came under one oak tree
The town would surely empty up
Walking towards the spree

Perhaps the public park’s too small
To hold nine thousand folk
Maybe the Golf course or at Place
There lies that sacred oak

Or in a field at Baillieston
With branches stretching high
Would crowds of folk bustle around
Show love with tearful eyes?

If Love brought down from empty shelves
Like books or DVDs
Was brought to act in people’s lives
What feelings there would be

A main street perhaps with rose petals
Or colours from the blooms
People chatting at the cross
While bands played Tara Boom

If everyone said simply “thanks”
To neighbours, friends and foe
Or if per chance a pleasant smile
So Love may freely go

What if the morn brought questions like,
Who can I bless today?
How much a little town could change
And put her on her way.

Imagine Tesco selling love
What sadness that would be
For surely that would mean a death
to sacred old oak trees

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

Spring #Poem about #Kilbirnie #northayrshire

Come to my town dear spring,
With your cool short breeze
The budding  flowers in vale park
The leaves on Moorpark’s trees

Soft dew on graves you lay
On vale and Kersland sheep
Sun rises new each day
By Place the small fish leap

And with you bring the peace
Desired by all your sons
Of warmth and cheer and friendship
A community at one.

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

#North Ayrshire #poem about the Mossend Mine in #Kilbirnie

The Mossend Mine

While walking near the  Mossend mine
I chanced upon a flower
I stopped and stared at beauty spent
and passed away the hour

Her leaves were yellow daffodils
where bees would pass the time
watching men go under ground
While entering the mine
Her stem did sway with summer breeze
she slumbered on the brink
like a burdened miner walks
whilst thirsting for a drink.

Suddenly a voice I heard
transported back in time
young men with blackened faces walked
deep inside that mine
Awaking, flowers, buttercups
blessed me on my way
whilst haunting thoughts of distant past
I carried through my day.
So if a flower does call you back
to places, lands of yore,
dwell not in the realm of dreams
take only what is yours
Perhaps your flower is yet to come
in mountain, thoughts or clime
ne’er mind the times of centuries old
NOW  is your only time

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

#kilbirnie #poem #northayrshire #scotland

If kilbirnie was a harp with strings
I’d surely sweep a strain,
An everlasting melody
Which no man could restrain


I’d write a song of thanksgiving
Of peace and love and cheer
To bless the town  with all its woes
Bring pleasure to their ears

I’d play the song on knoxville road
And at the Walker Hall
I’d play it at the Labour club
While drunkards take their fall


I’d play the harp so silently
For those who hate the sound
To aid them out of hopelessness
To turn their lives around


I’d  sweep a strain of sad refrain
At  steel works passing by
I’d touch upon a melody
And older folks would cry

I’d play it softly at the match
While folks would cheer their team
And move along the  park so long
To watch the Garnock stream

I’d play the harp across the tracks
As cyclists speed me by
I’d play and wait at  graveyard’s gates
For mourners with their sighs


I’d play it at the Garnock’s heart
Right up at Jacob’s Well,
where no one goes to see it flow
Or care to even tell
I’d play a tune right at the school
The Children would be pleased
I’d pass the harp to little ones
To hold upon their knees

So to the town with all my sounds
And everlasting strains
I leave  the harp  right at the  cross
For others who remain

To strain their sounds of happiness
And hope for all the town
To watch it grow  with sadness no!
As an everlasting crown.

kilbirnie, poems, Uncategorized

#poem written at #kilbirnie cemetery #northayrshire #scotland

At the Grave of Mary Stewart Glass
(Kilbirnie Old Cemetery Lair: E1286)

Dwells there a shadow on your grave
A look that years impart?
Is there a thought of vanished hours
 a husband may come back?

A son from others shores returns?
A daughter from the way?
Waiting silently reposed
The passing of the days.

Now may your gaze be heavenward
Convictions deep and strong
Yielding Irish good luck charm
To all you chance upon
Your  soul, upbourne on Ayrshire’s wings,
In brighter days will find
Life has a higher just reward
Than waiting for mankind.

So gaze no more on passing ways
To faces walking by
For we as strangers  know your plight
With knowledge where you lie.

Strangers not, but family
With flowers to heal and save
A lonely soul long since forgotten
Blessed be your  grave