I’m scared of you
Of all the things
That you might do,
Who you might hurt
How far you’ll go
To show the world
To let it know
That you’re not the same as me,
What would you do to make them see?
Continue reading “Poetry – You”
Catrigg Force is a waterfall I used to visit a lot when I was a small child, but until a few days ago hadn’t been to in many, many years. It’s one of a number of waterfalls like that. I can’t say specifically how many because I remember only really random things about each one, and don’t know if some of those random things were at the same waterfall. What I remembered about Catrigg Force was a small cave I used to climb into.
It’s about a mile outside the village of Stainforth. I started from the village car park, and there’s a signpost to get you started. You head through the village, crossing Stainforth Beck by a set of large stepping stones, and then up a track leading out of the village.
You stick to this track for a long time, until eventually a little path signposted for the Force heads off to the left. Going along off this path, you come in sight of patch of woodland, with a gate leading into it. Head into here and along the path and you reach the waterfall.
Continue reading “Catrigg Force”
Last month I spent a couple of nights in Hebden Bridge, a town that isn’t actually that far from where I live, but that’s no reason not to stay overnight in a place that lovely.
‘Hebden’ comes from Anglo-Saxon words for rose and valley, and Bridge is in reference to the old packhorse bridge. The original one is long gone, but another was built in its spot, and that’s centuries old now.
Hebden Bridge is a bit of an odd place, but it feels really special. One thing that makes it very interesting to look at is that it’s been built on steep slopes, so at some points, from some perspectives, the houses seem like they’re almost on top of eachother.
The real unique thing is the shops. There are a lot of independent ones, but it feels different to other towns like that. They’re the kind of shops I remember from my childhood, like the town got semi-frozen in time. In some cases they were even selling the same kind of merchandise, the kind of things I haven’t seen in years. Most of the shops I remember closed down or updated, but somehow Hebden Bridge’s survived.
Continue reading “Hebden Bridge”
I am yours and you are mine
And that’s the only reason why
I’ve ever cared a little bit
What happens, if you even live
Is that harsh? I know it is
But you gave me nothing to work with. Continue reading “Poetry – I Am Yours”
This post is double late; it was meant to be done last month, and it wasn’t, and then I didn’t even get it done by the date I had set myself this month. And I’m there’s a possibility that I won’t get all of the posts I had scheduled for the rest of the month done either; I’ve been having some laptop problems, and at this point in time I don’t know what I have and haven’t lost. Specifically, I may have lost all my edited poems and some of my drawings.
So I’m sorry for being late with this post, and I’m sorry if it turns out I can’t do all the posts I meant to. I’ll try to stay on track.
On to this post. Weets Hill is a small hill in Pendle, Lancashire. Until 1974 it was actually part of Yorkshire, but the boundaries changed, and now it is classed as one of the three peaks of Pendle, along with Pendle Hill and Boulsworth Hill. Weets is the smallest and easiest to walk of the three hills.
Continue reading “Weets Hill”