Where muddy waters flow Where only grasses grow Still roam the souls you know Of Blackwater Men. Blackwater Men will never fade away They still return on two tides every day They come and walk again To view their past domain It's where their bones are lain These Blackwater Men. Long, long these souls will haunt the salty shore Until the time when there's a world no more Then these past men will ride On one last foaming tide To heaven and there reside as Blackwater Men. We who live are richer by far Because they went before And trod the paths of time They ploughed, they fought, they prayed And gave the place some meaning. So now as we follow Let us bless these people Who made the river work and Sowed the seeds of life Which we take with us each day And so we join and say Amen. October 2000 The above may not seem to flow well but it was written to be set to music. This has been done by Clive Smith of South Woodham Ferrers and is a choral work within a suite.
Tag: Heaven
Daniel
A little lad I never knew Born to a life of hell This busy fat world just went on And the watchers did not tell. You were starved of love And rifled bins for food Your own mother broke your arm Then silenced you for good. Did no one see the bruises? Or note your half age weight? You were tortured daily but It was noticed when far too late. Oh my heavens how I weep For it always is the same You lived - you died - we never met But I feel I am to blame. Daniel Pelka, died March 2012, aged 4
Standing on our Own Feet
Let's try and fool the angels And take the promise of heaven in our stride By good example negate all religions And cast our differences aside. The cancer you get is your own And the babies die because of us Kneel if you think someone listens Beyond the incense and ceremonial fuss. In the end there's just us people We come and we go alone The facts speak amply for themselves But in fear we invent an unknown. So let's all try and fool the angels Stop the wars, take the hungry and feed them We could do it alone you know - And could tell the angels we don't need them.
No Escape
Sitting amidst green glory on a hillside quiet alone on the gentle wind now comes the chime of a mobile phone. But for a while I am at peace and God is in his heaven and from my left comes the drone of the busy A127. Around me are just trees and hedges and it's good to be alive who cares about the incessant hum of the M25? I dig deep within me for calm and solace but even as I delve just over that hedge to my east buzzes the old A12. I look up to the blue sky for clarity but then I surely know there will be a line of planes letting down to land at Heathrow. We live on a lovely island and are glad that that is so but if one needs peace and quiet just where are we supposed to go?
September Memories
As an onshore wind moves the trees
With the smell of seaweed on the breeze
Memories return just as they please.
Ah September!
Past holidays return with a leap
Spent here in Autumn when quite cheap
So exciting he couldn't sleep
In September.
A young boy not yet seven
Knee deep in mud soft and even
Thinks he's just arrived in Heaven
Great September.
This is the best place he ever saw
There's freedom here - no playground law
And he doesn't even know he's poor -
It's just September.
Years later and this man reflects
On life and love, wealth and sex
And why life now is so complex
Not September.
When he can walk this beach no more
And journeys to a higher shore
He will meet those pleasures gone before
Again September.
The river Blackwater in Essex is in my soul. I was taken to Mersea Island every Autumn when a child and still sail in the area now in my middle seventies. One bright Blackwater morning while walking on the foreshore this poem came to me.
As I See Things 