Writers needed for Warkworth Show
The 142nd Warkworth Show takes place at the Castle on Saturday 17th August this year. As ever, your turnips, performing dogs, runny honey, hand knitted socks, beetroots, photographs, knitted shawls, garlic, swiss rolls, macaroons, chutney, dahlias and sunflowers will be welcome.
But for budding and blooming writers, there are several chances to show off your literary skills as well. There is one topic for adult poetry, of no more than 20 lines; the subject is ‘Travelling’, and you can choose any form you like. So whether you have sledged to the Antarctic or taken a bus no further than Broomhill, do please put pen to paper and delight us with your journeyings.
There’s also a chance for adults to submit a review of not more than 200 words of your favourite book. For children (Year 9 and above) we also want reviews of your favourite book, again in not more than 200 words. Entry forms are included in the Show’s Schedule, and entries are to be with the Secretary Julie Mohon, 4 Albion Close, Warkworth (email: julie.mohon@tiscali.co.uk) by Saturday 10th August. There is no entry fee for any of the categories.
James Broderick
By Margaret Bell
James Broderick from Kilkenny, traveller tinker by trade.
Left his land far behind, bringing a fair young maid.
To Northumberland under Warkworths Castle wall
At the show he sold his ware, A humble tressle for a stall.
He found a home for the winter working the local mine
A fish out of water, down in the depths seemed a terrible crime.
Come summer he up and left, with his horse and cart,
A tearful parting, but the road ahead, cheered his failing heart.
To feed his wife and bairns, he followed roads far and wide,
Hanging out the washing, his Missus often sighed.
She’d look to the road and hoped to see his impish Irish face,
But once every summer they’d meet in a certain place.
Underneath the castle walls he’d turn up for the show,
And each successive year his family they did grow.
Three little ones on the horse and cart fought for a ride,
These were James’s everything his simple joy and pride.
Five years past, and on the Sixth their tryst he did not keep,
No one knows where he went, or if he fell asleep,
A traveller still, his wife’s heart hears his step so tall,
Looking for him every year neath Warkworths Ghostly wall.
Oooh, lovely poem; old walls, new ghosts, joy and heartbreak plus a horse and cart. Keep it up.
Incidentally, for future publication, it’s “trestle” …
Best wishes
Can also be ”tressle…………………….!