Hans Callison stories and poems
I joined the Men with pens group to improve my writing skills. I was a digger driver until I had to retire owing to a pysical health problem. While still emplowed I studied Christian education which included Theology Church history Worship and preaching etc. It was while doing this studying I realized how much I needed to improve my writing skills. the group has been a great help. Hans Callison.
The Cuddly Destroyer
So graceful on the velvet lawn it sat,
Nibbling at the choice menu of silver greens,
Grass of rye, creeping, the meadow, bent,
Red hard fescues, delicately it did chew.
Feeding from the stocks of sorrel, docks,
Daises of dandelion, plaintains of buttercups,
Dipped in starweed gelatine and treefoil clover,
laced with crowfoot thistle, a daily diet.
Left alone to roam and peacefully nibble away,
Clarkie's Codetia and Aster's Petunia
Innocent flowers of cool spring were its sweet,
Bounced away and disappeared into cuddles mouth,
The Cuddly 'Destroyer' flew for it's life
for shattering cuddles peaceful picnic so fair,
Soaring and whirling through the air it came
Was the gardeners four pronged spear.
Closed In
Our own wee world
Donny watched from the top of the ladder; the supporters of two football teams going past. Some wearing red and white, some wearing yellow and red.
All going to Cliftonville, a rare football match to experience between the clubs of two neighbouring towns. For this friendly not many were expected to appear, so not all turnstiles were open.
As kick-off approached the crowd closed in, queues quickly lengthening, voices growing steadily louder. The organisers opened more turnstiles. The gathering became restless and the organisers felt a growing panic of hopelessness to cope. They feared that the restless crowd might become a mob. Police reinforcements were called in as the crowd steadily grew to a menacing threat. The local press reporters could feel the excitement and the restless atmostphere as the crowd moved in. The national media moved in hoping for a scoop or sensational picture. News of the massive crowd reached radio then television.
On hearing the news, even more people flocked to Cliftonville including local dignitaries. The police inspector called for more constables as the players prepared for the coming battle on the field. Unaware of the scenes in Donny's dream.
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The single yellow flower
I awoke to the evening primrose
Its yellow trumpet blaring tunefully to the morning sunrise,
Its simple beauty stood tallest of them all
Singly swaying in the breeze
Brought in the smile of peace, as it was adored
With excitement, I thanked God for the beauty
Lines
In perfect formation they stood,
Thirty four straight and good,
Each one the same distance apart,
Ready in silence to play their part.
The sound of scratching they felt,
The thoughts of the writer did melt,
Into the spaces words did creep,
And filled with humour the sheet.
Told with fluid of black and blue,
The story of deception so true,
In creative language of the boss,
About the four wheels he lost.
A good deed he set out to do,
Forgetting he was full of the booze,
Soon he spotted the boys in blue,
His licence he was about to lose.
The publican whose bill he still did owe,
Over a pint of regret, told his woes,
To the barman who in deception did phone,
To drive the message of drink driving home.
The Fungi Story
Look! She exclaimed like a child.
It's beautiful! She squealed with glee,
Pointing to the mushroom growing wild,
On it's green velvet bed, shaded by the tree.
Get the camera its beauty we must catch,
As she gazed at the little spot of wonder.
Not another sight could match,
With a click its beauty was plundered.
Its face was crimson red,
Adorned with speckles of white,
Seated on its green velvet bed
Amid the streaks of light.
With brightness hidden in its beauty,
Alone it told the Fungi story,
This small frail creature of purity,
Tells the wisdom of God's Glory.
Under the Viaduct
The Gathered under the viaduct.
Grown men hoping for luck,
All styles of working class,
Venturing for a fortune to last.
From villages around they walked,
To join with the local stock,
Inspired to give a special treat,
To their off- springs so sweet.
Two coins spinning through the air.
Heads or tails the guess so fair,
Could cost them to win or lose,
The remains of hard earned cash.
They could go with heads held high.
Or tails dragging with a sigh,
Back home to face the joy or wrath,
The apron lady with the rolling pin.
A CIVIC RECEPTION
The invitation was recieved
A civic reception to attend
discovery awards to recieve
For a community of creative leaning
The transport was laid on
For Motherwell we had to go
Orange juice or champagne in hand
Drowned out the waterfall of voices
Twelve seated at 39 tables
We were seated the last
Two litres of liquid water
One of white and one of red
Eight small bottles of beer on ice
No chance of getting drunk
Unless you had the expensive taste
Of fermented juice at the bar
The three course meal was nicely presented
Served by students making ends meet
With a delicious gracious helping
That would create many a divorce
From Airdrie, Bellshill, Coatbridge Cumbernauld,
Croy, Carfin, Glenboig, And Kilsyth they, came
Shott's, Wishaw an faraway Motherwell gathered.
To recieve and celebrate their learning awards
From the conveyer belt system a peice of paper.
To recieve. all because they discovered the hidden
talents of learning in the present for the future
Bronze, Silver Gold all at the paupers expense.
