TOPIC:

HELP PRESERVE OUR HEDGE ROW

Miles of hedge row snake out
Across the land
Some manmade others nature planned
Each have a part to play
Helping wildlife survive
Throughout their stay
Birds can shelter among
Their branches high
And watch for marauders
That circle the sky

They divide the land
Section by section
While traveling along you can
View them in any direction
Farmers till the soil
And plant their crop
Some of which turn up
In your local shop
On a summers day
It’s a sight to be seen
As your eyes take in each
Refreshing scene

Rivers and streams wind lazily
Over the country side
Some straight and narrow
Others deep and wide
Livestock graze as they wander around
Anglers fish silently trying hard
Not to make a sound
As you roam over our pleasant land
You can only hope mankind
Will try to leave it
As nature planned
AUTHOR KEN FLETCHER

BLACK COUNTRY POET

FIFTY YEARS ON

Once again that dreaded sound
Fills the air
Sending people scurrying
Into shelters every where
Overhead enemy bombers
Have that deadly drone
Bringing fear and dread
To anyone being alone

Wave after wave
Seek their destination
As into the air
Go our salvation
Spitfires hurricanes
To name but a few
Backed up by gunners
Firemen police and medics too

While battle after battle
Is taking place
The way our lads and lasses fought
Was no disgrace
Wardens patrolled each street
At night
Making sure no one
A chink of light

In the face of bombs
Or a raging fire
Praise or bravery
Will come no higher
With a powerful barrage
And their job done
They watched in relief
At the departing hun

AUTHOR KEN FLETCHER

BLACK COUNTRY POET

GETTING AWAY FROM IT ALL

Down velvet mountains
Flows a crystal spring
Gently ripples and to
Listening ears softly sing
Ever winding seems no end
As it twists and turns
With every bend

Sun brightly shines
From a clear blue sky
Adding warmth and cheerfulness
To all passing by
Wild birds sing
Rabbits run and play
Brightening up a glorious day

From fresh cut meadows wafts
The smell of new mown hay
Making a joyous relaxation
Throughout your stay
A refreshing feeling
Stems from a gentle breeze
As it softy caresses nature’s trees

In the country
People love to ramble
Down sandy banks
They slip and scramble
On and on mile after mile
As they clamber over countless style
Into a wilderness
Where insects bite and sting
Those eager ramblers follow the trail
Of that elusive spring

AUTHOR KEN FLETCHER

BLACK COUNTRY POET

I made a promise to Dad shortly before he died. That promise was to publish his work. For the first time in my life, I saw a tear in his eyes.

I have not yet fulfilled that promise to dad. One night while laying semi awake in bed, I heard dad's unmistakeable voice. He said I'm not talking to you Andrew. I was absolutely stunned to hear him and have searched for a logical explanation. I have no idea why I am telling you this, I think I just need to offload some of the burden his death has delivered to me.

I found a tape after clearing his house, it was a tape of his poems being read out on radio programmes. One however was read by Dad, I have not played it since.

The drug metformin killed Dad, I have done much homework on this drug. Metformin is given to people with type 2 diabetes. I begged Dad to throw the medication away, pleading with him to change his diet instead.

While Dad was dying in hospital with cancer of the pancreas, liver, and gall bladder, I turned to ask the doctor who had been doing diabetes tests on Dad and in front of my brother, his wife, my wife and myself, asked the Doctor a direct question.

That question was; Does my dad have type 2 diabetes? The reluctant answer came back No your father does not have type 2 diabetes.. Next question was; Has he ever had type 2 diabetes? Answer again was No.

Next question was. Why on earth has my father been prescribed a drug that is known to alter the cells in the liver and pancreas, (confirmed by a specialist in the U.S.A.).

Answer; Your father was given this drug just in case he developed type 2 diabetes?

Dad died of a very painful cancer which spread to many areas of his body. He died without taking so much as a single paracetamol! Such was his distrust in the medical profession. Dad lived with horrendous leg ulcers and his legs were like raw meat. He still managed to climb his ladder to clean windows right until retirement. I helped dad to heal his ulcers and dramatically reduce swelling and bulging veins when his bed was tilted back in 1996 if memory serves me correct. Occasionally his legs would break down, but recovered again in a few weeks. I suspect during the last months of his life he contracted MRSA in Russell’s Hall Hospital and my last memory of him was horrific.

Very wonderful writing Andrew. The story about your dad is touching....and yes the drugs killed him. To understand more about why or how you heard his voice later....or about the whistling in the car...you probably need to come to Africa one day. That's our department. There is a lot of old knowledge about such phenomena. In fact even for me to have found IBT was a push from an old Egyptian that sometimes stands behind my shoulder. As an educated man...I cannot believe that dead folk are walking around....so it could be something else happening that we perceive as dead people....whatever it is...it leads us to strange areas.

Thanks for the thumbs up on our scribblings Your right there must be a logical explanation but as yet I have not found one

A Tribute to Dolly

On a hill top not too far away lives an oak tree called Dolly's Oak. A very special oak which will remain in our hearts for eternity. For beneath its roots rests the most beautiful person one could ever wish to have known.

Her voyage from our lives into a timeless land took place too soon. We miss you so much our dear little girl. Please
forgive us for not saying good by when last we met.

We hope you make your new friends as happy as you made us all with your comical capers and devoted loyalty. Your trusting eyes are and will always burn into my every thoughts The tears we shed for you are all we have to offer for the joy you infused into us each and every day of the short so very short stay with us.

Lucy and Buster with their eyes ask us where you are. How do we tell them when we don't even understand why you left

Remember those leather boots we made for you when your paws were sore. I found them the other day and carry one with me in the hope that the pain in my heart will ease a little when I remember how you enjoyed your walks.

Oh how you made us laugh running around with the hollowed out bone in your mouth, like a trumpet Grrrr rerrrr rerrrr and now silence, which seems louder than all of the noise you used to make.

The boys have tried in true bull terrier form to hide their feelings for you but they failed and the tears for you flood out of their eyes.

We hope your favourite toy which you chased in our games brings comfort and understanding' in your journey. Mum has forgiven you for chasing the vacuum and garden hose pipe. Thank you for giving us Lucy who has taken over your guard duties.

Every one who met you fe11 under your spell of endearment and are saddened by your parting. Annie and family miss you dearly and will call to say hello soon. If only we could return the warmth and love you showered us with. Our love for you has no words.

God bless you Dolly

Aw...makes me remember my boxers, both buried under our lemon tree.