LOCKTON
Oh, did you come by Lockton.
On a wintry
afternoon
And watch the storm clouds gather
And listen to
the tune
Of the shrill North-easter blowing
O'er the
moorland road from the sea,
With a tang of the salt wave in it,
And a lashing
of hail in its lee?
Oh, did you come by Lockton.
One morn in
early Spring,
And see the green trees bending
And hear the
merry ring
Of a thousand bluebells shaking
In a fairy
haunted wood,
Or walk an a violet carpet
Where the
primrose lately stood?
Oh, did you come by Lockton,
In laughing
late July
And hear the song of a thousand
birds,
Or a curlew's
plaintive cry.
As he wheels o'er the lonely
valley
In the haze of
the Summer hours.
While browsing kine on the hillside
Move on 'mid
the swaying flowers
Oh, did you come by Lockton.
When Autumn
shed its gold,
And gaze on the misty moorland
Where the
distant hills unfold
Their mantle of royal purple
'Mid bracken
of russet sheen,
Where its store the squirrel is
hiding
And the hunted
fox is seen?
For I long for the hills of Lockton.
And one day I
will go
To the kindly folk on the hillside,
Where the
heather and bracken grow.
Where the shrill North-easter's
blowing
Down the
moorland road from the sea
With a tang of the salt wave in it
And a lashing
of hail in its lee.
M. A. HYDE.
Lockton & Levisham
Lockton and Levisham queen it together,
Only a mile - and a chasm - between;
Straddling the hill-tops and braving the weather,
Neighbours across the enormous ravine.
Lockton and Levisham - there's no comparing:
Together they dwell in my memory apart,
Dignity, beauty, unemulous sharing,
Divided by nature, but not in my heart.
By R A. Carter |
LEVISHAM MILL
Does the wind still roar on Levisham Hill?
Does the beck tumble yet down at the mill?
Is the valley as lovely as I remember,
And the bracken as gold in early November?
Does the mist drift and curl by the silver stream?
I see it yet as in a dream,
The black faced sheep who stare as you pass,
The wild purple orchids in the young green grass.
Do the martins still nest under the eves?
Does George sweep yet the fallen leaves?
Will it be the same? Oh, I pray that it will,
On the day I return to Levisham Mill.
Author unknown
|
From 'To the camp of the Lord'
O thou north of England, who art counted as desolate and barren,
and reckoned the least of the nations;
yet out of thee did the branch spring and the star arise
that gives light to all the regions round about.
Edward Burrough 1655
|
|
Lockton
Geese
by Miss Joanne Pearson,
Whitby
Two white geese at Lockton
farm
Sitting quietly, doing no
harm
Waiting patiently for
Tuesday
For treats to come, hip
hip hooray.
That white car we know so
well
We honk and scream as loud
as a bell
We run and run oh so fast
Buns and wheat, ooh Alas.
Hurry hurry, we need to
know
What's in your bag, please
do show
Is it scones or soft white
bread?
You really do keep us well
fed.
The bucket of wheat spills
to the floor
Food everywhere, broad
piles galore
Then come the cats to seal
a slice
"Go away you've got
your mice".
You've all got your cat
rings as your own treats
Steal our food and you
will see our beaks
They grind and clap when
we get cross
So remember cats, we are
both the boss!
You really are lucky geese
Receiving all those
delightful treats
A lovely village for you
both to roam
There really is no place
like home.
Dusk sets in, it's time
for bed
George arrives to open the
shed
"In you both go, for the
night
To keep you out of harmful
sight".
Published in Pickering
Gazette 31/1/2007