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True Spooky Story Play this after reading it.
This tune brings back a really spooky memory for my wife and I every time we hear it.
Our car broke down on the A303, Managed to find a place to pull in before the car ground to a halt and lifted the bonnet to find out what was wrong. Noticed some old rusty tools and plumbing bits scattered around the pull in but took no notice. Asked Jude to try the car again because I could not find anything wrong, the car fired up first time and for 2 years that we kept it after, it never broke down again. Anyway, we drove away on our long journey and about 5 minutes after pulling away, I turned to Jude, who I know can't whistle, just to see if it was here that was whistling a tune I knew but could not quite remember, to find she was also looking at me to see if I was whistling. Both of us looked very puzzled as no radio was on in the car. Jude said someone must have got in the car with us. No one visible at least got in the car as I would have known about it. Jude looked in the back to make sure adding “If anyone is I the car with us, we don’t mind and you are very welcome to stay with us. A little further down the road the same tune though somewhat quieter echoed around the car and again we looked at each other. We never heard the whistling again.

A few days later I realised the name of the tune that we heard from the cryptically whistling part, which appeared to come from the back seats of the car.

That was also really spooky because the song title was “looking back over your shoulder”, which was exactly what my wife and I had been doing along the darkened early morning journey after our very odd break down, me being a good mechanic and all. I then learned the tune was by Mike and the Mechanics. Now this was becoming too much of a coincidence to bear. I have to understand something or it simply is not happening. Yet that night it definitely did happen and to this day I do not have an explanation for it.

Jude is into spiritual stuff. Me, well not a great fan of the most haunted programmes to put it mildly. She said someone must have got in the car with us that morning during the darkened hours. I just told a friend the same story here at our home and showed the video of Mike and the Mechanics only for him to point out it is a grave yard scene. Gulp…….

Silence flows like a babbling brook across smooth stones
Glistening shimmering waters edge beckons out for chilling
Crayfish follow and challenge teasing toe moments
Trout leaping to touch a silvery moon fall and anoint our thoughts
A heron stabs and studies and stabs some more and quickly swallows

Wolf calls but seldom seen we feel its soulful knoll play upon our spine
Looking for those calculating eyes amid the pines and nettle
We quickly gather thoughts with pace and run for steam and kettle
The door is closed the room is dark the cup is filled and bed is calling
Heart pounding we extend our ears to night and tomorrow seek another fright

Written 22 July 08
Andrew K Fletcher

Today
Heated at the furnace, forged from toil
Quenched in sweat, and hardened by time,
Kissed by airborne molten steel
Fed on promise and humble pie,
I dine but not alone, my needs are few
But fewer still my gains
Today I laugh

laying awake, glary eyed and cold,
Disbelieve the sadness that unfolds
Remembering schools, the emphasise placed
On using tools, Learn a trade and skills
To strive for higher goals
The lesson learned is how to fight
Today I smile

Sitting alone on Buryhill Bank
So quiet now, tranquillised by deprivation
Yesterday Hooters sound, Stampings slam
Smoke belching from every orifice
Lights like thousands of fireflies
Pulsate memories now
Today I think

Northward bound in search of hope
I stare in disbelief
Foundations where proud factories stood
Desolation far as my eyes can see
Sickened angry, yet for the people sad
Was this bombsite Sheffield?
Is progress really shopping-malls?
Today I wipe a tear from my chin

You know what you have done
More destruction than Hitler caused
Everywhere I look I see your mark
Remember this,
They who sow nothing shall reap the same
Sit on your money pile but guard it well today

By Andrew K Fletcher enduring Thatcherism

TIME

Time we chase
Across an endless sky
Has no wings
Yet seems to fly
Seconds rush swiftly
Like a flowing spring

Like a flash of lightning
Our life does pass
Which we tend to treasure and preserve
Throughout life’s everyday dash
From dawn till dusk
We try to cope
But ever passing of time
Gives us little scope

On and on like the sea years flow
And just like a cork
We get tossed to and fro
Everyone’s life around time revolve
A mystery which no one
Seems to ever solve

AUTHOR KEN FLETCHER

BLACK COUNTY POET

LEST WE FORGET

The weather bleak
Home far away
Trenches filling with comrades
Before light of day
Brow cold from dripping sweat
Tired body shaking from battles roar
As a front line soldier had
Seen it all before

Thoughts dwell to a far off land
Way out of reach
To that nice little cottage
By a sandy beach
Some day this bitter war will cease
And my chances of
Survival increase

Time running out
Will soon be gone
With the rest of the lads
To a dreaded front line
Where battle rages on
Over the top lads
Came that commanding cry
All as one
They charge on by

Light seemed to end
Time had stood still
As another unsung hero
Fell never more to rise
At the foot of
His last hill

AUTHOR KEN FLETCHER

BLACK COUNTRY POET

A Sight To Behold


In a blaze of colour
Bursts forth an early spring
A multitude of plant life comes alive
And birds begin to sing
In the distance a lark calls from the sky
Bringing a peaceful feeling to all passing by

Summer clouds flow across the milky way
Wildlife of every breed
Flit along by light of day
My eager footsteps
Take me across fields so green
As my thoughts dwell on each breathtaking scene

A light wind softly caresses blossom filled trees
Surrounded by a swarm
Of hardworking bees
Year after year
Still have that same feeling
As I witness natures beauty
Get more revealing

Think’s if only the whole world could see
Such a beautiful show
That’s standing here in front of me
Not one or even two
But a hill covered
With a sea of blue

A host of bluebells
Stand out so proud
Impressive to each one
Of an ever increasing crowd
Another wonder of our world
A majestic sight that lies unfurled

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