jingle jingle!

jingle jingle!


there are those who sing

(for William Martin, 1925-2010)

There are those who sing,


with the breath of thrushes;

who craft songs

from out of their deep roots,

whose verse roars

with the sea

and the sky

and the pain of the land.

In the cathedral

of their hearts,

their tunes rise up

and fill the heavens

with flocks of words.

They are few

and far between,

these fliers

of lyrics.

Above plodders

and traipsers

of verse,

they reach for real stars,

pluck at galaxies

and dreams

of word symphonies,


that soar for centuries.

William, my friend,

you were

one of these,

a fatherer of folk hymns,

a Durham choirman,

singing quarryman,

carving out poems

with his pick and soul.

On a piano keyboard

of a dictionary,

you composed

a music festival

of passionate poetry.


the jingling geordie

My photo
whitley bay, tyne and wear, United Kingdom
poet and raconteur