This blog's poems are from my published poetry book Star Steeds and Other Dreams: The Collected Poems (CFZ Press: Bideford, 2009) and are © Dr Karl P.N. Shuker, 2009. Except for author-credited review purposes, it is strictly forbidden to reproduce any of these poems elsewhere, either in part or in entirety, by any means, without my written permission.

How to purchase Star Steeds and Other Dreams

If you wish to buy this book, which is 230 pages long and is ISBN 978-1-905723-40-9, it is readily available online from its publisher, CFZ Press of Bideford, Devon, UK at http://www.cfz.org.uk/ and also from such major literary websites as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Waterstones, W H Smith, and sellers on AbeBooks to name but a few. You can also purchase a signed copy directly from me, the author - please email me at karlshuker@aol.com for full details.

Available from Amazon.com , from Amazon.co.uk , and directly from the publisher in quantities at: www.cfz.org.uk.

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Friday 16 July 2010

A GHOST FROM THE PAST


I owe not only my lifelong love of poetry but also my own inspiration to write poetry to this poem, which was a joint effort between myself and my mother. It began life as a school assignment at a time when I had yet to make any serious attempt at writing poetry. My mother wrote the outline of it, which I then expanded, and in so doing realised how much I was enjoying creating an original poem. And the rest, as they say, is history. The narrator of the poem is me, as a youngster; Mary-Rose is my mother, Mary Shuker; and the airman represents my mother’s first husband, a young RAF pilot called Harold Hooper, who died shortly after World War II ended, as a direct result of the war.


A GHOST FROM THE PAST

My friend and companion is dear Mary-Rose,
A great nature lover as everyone knows.
She travels with me over long country miles,
Through deep greening woodlands and over the stiles.

She took me one day to her favourite place,
The sun shining brightly, the wind in her face.
She suddenly looked sad, a lone tear on her nose,
And winds whispered softly of dear Mary-Rose.

She said: “My young husband, a long time ago,
Would always come here when his spirits were low.
He’ll never again come to this lovely spot,
Will never again feel the sun, oh so hot.”

And then she just smiled, and said: “Come on, young man,”
And into the dingle she laughed as she ran.
We’re going to watch birds, and excitement soon grows;
And a young airman whispers: “Goodbye, Mary-Rose”.



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