Tide was nearly full. Mist lay in a grey scarf along the line of the cliffs. .. and they walked home hand in hand through the slanting shadows of the new darkness.
Some of you may remember that I recounted how I came to have in my possession the Pen that WG used to mark up a manuscript- I was VERY young, & had written a Poem entitled 'The Pen of Winston Graham' &, at the urging of friends, sent it to him. Mr Graham, being the lovely man that he was, replied with a hand written letter on Saville Club note paper. He was very generous in his compliments (bless him) and enclosed a green ink (my fave colour) pen. When it arrived, it had attached to it an apology from the postal service, due to it being damaged in transit. Its damaged, yes, but I treasure it.
I'd like to think that my writing has improved since then. I sincerely hope so anyhow, because for some years now I've been writing scripts, songs etc for public performance & film etc but the poem I sent to WG will always be dear to my heart. Re reading it earlier, I blush at its floridity, and its irregular construction, and decided not to post it here. However as it has an interesting story I reconsidered, so, with apologies, here it is. Btw, pls dont anyone feel that they have to follow in the far too generous footsteps of WG and praise it!!!!! I was nobbut a bairn...
The Pen of Winston Graham
With black ink on white paper
You lift me up above the rest,
Of all the words in all the world,
You mesmerize me with the best.
The Pen of Winston Graham
Can warm me like a fire,
Send scorching comets hurtling through
The crowded place we call desire
While all the stars in Heaven
Sing of vast eternity
His voice explodes with diamonds
Cutting light and life, until Love bleeds
The Pen of Winston Graham
Can chill me like a blizzard
On the bleakest day of all
Alone and in the wilderness
Where no one hears my call,
Im wracked by fear, dont leave me here!
My battered hands are numb
I try to raise them to my ears,
Is that my heart or am I in The Valley of the Drums?
The Pen of Winston Graham
Can elate or can destroy
Where passion waves neath horses hooves
Come crashing through the void.
Where rainbows come to arch their backs
Above the tears in my minds eye
Unsettling me with tragedy,
The sun shines; you decide just who shall live and who shall die
And far across the skyline where none of us grow old
I ride on the wings of an albatross to steal the pirates gold
As feathers kiss the ocean another tale is told
The curtain tore, I thirst for more
Your footprints in the sand
The Pen of Winston Graham is
The magic wand of sorcery
Within The Masters hand,
The magic wand of sorcery
Within The Masters hand
-- Edited by Smollett on Monday 22nd of August 2011 09:05:28 AM
If anyone has written or would like to dedicate a poem or poems in Winston Graham's memory please post them into this thread. Even if you've never written a poem before all contributions short or long are most welcome. I'm new to poetry as well but will try to make a start sometime today.
No need to be shy as it couldn't be in a better cause....
Ross
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"Perfection is a full stop .... Ever the climbing but never the attaining Of the mountain top." W.G.