The Braves

Standing just at one foot tall,
Guarding keeps and castle walls,
The tribe of which the moat is hold,
Are littles like the garden gnome.
With spears in hand, align in rows,
Await to stab intruders toes.
These tiny brave, soldiered men,
As old as which what they defend,
The wars have gone a battle ghost,
But still the braves defend their post.
Their joints they’ve seized and turned t’ stone,
Til a day may come to fight for home.

This is my B poem for the A to Z challenge.
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

My A-Z is based on Northumberland, and the myths and monsters that lurk within.
The idea of The Braves came to me when I was writing The Untold Stories of Scotland and it never came to anything until now. The idea is a small army so old they have turned to stone, or gnomes. We have alot of castles up in Northumberland, and even more Braves.

My poems kind of lead onto one another so I do suggest you read the poem before it to get the gist.

The Amblers

As we walk the Amble coast,
Y’ hear the murmurs of sea-bound ghosts,
Who lost their lives in northern seas,
Setting sail on fisheries.
Who cast their nets for one last time,
And now they haunt the mass of brine,
On boats said made of smokes and wisps,
Make warning to the passing ships,
To scare them off the jagged bay,
And see yon sailers make their way,
The amblers they call the souls of sort,
Who see the boats now safe to port.

This is my A poem for the A to Z challenge.
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

My A-Z is based on Northumberland, and the myths and monsters that lurk within. All the poems kind of lead onto one another so I do suggest you read the one before or the beginning of the Stories of the Northlands. The idea of Amblers comes from Amble, a fishing town in the North East of England, and the word rambling. I loved the idea of a the ghosts of fishermen lost at sea.

Alphabet Zoo

Todays the day we open our gates,
And welcome you on opening day,
So come inside alphabet zoo,
The name suggests a bit of a clue.
The animals here are from a to z,
Do not feed! they’ve all been fed.
The creatures here, all on show,
A little strange from what you know,
For our enclosures store so many beast,
That start from tiny to 100 feet.
A lion too that can not roar,
A water hog with not hoofs but paws,
An animal called a Rookaroo,
A monkey and a kangaroo.
A snake with legs a frog with wings,
A hive of bees that never sting,
Our zebra zing with 1 black stripe,
Another black it’s markings white.
The tour it starts at 10 past A,
I’m your guide, for everyday,
So join on in and walk right through,
I take you on to Alphabet Zoo.

Getting warmed up for the A-Z challenge with a little bit of light humored fun!

La Criatura de los Muertos

With battered bones and broken teeth,
There dwells a creature they call the creep.
Whose eyes are blind and slits of red,
But do not rest within his head,
For In his palms, so quite sly,
Here you find this beings eye.
And in it’s fingers long and thin,
He searches on the waves of wind.

Of nothing more than skin and bones,
With arms so slightly over-grown,
Resting upon a tabled feast
A heavy breath escapes the beast.
Til a grape is stole and placed,
To her lips for just a taste,
The creep he rises off his seat,
For warned she was not to eat.

She runs on down a narrow hall,
And draws a square upon the wall,
As she pushes with all her might,
He comes on closer into her sight.
With a limp he shuffles near,
She drops her chalk in clumsy fear.

She pulls a chair and draws again,
Above her head a doorframe.
With a push it opens wide,
She stumbles and begins to climb,
’til she is up out the floor,
And left the creature behind the door.

The Percy Lion

It’s said a lion roams the lands,
Since they came to Percy’s hands,
Of whom the lion took his name,
Has curl of tail and silver mane.
This lonely beast once was found,
Guarding territory of Alnwick grounds,
A roar feared by the southern crowd,
This lion’s pride is one and proud.
A humble Knight, a majestic thing,
They call old Percy, the Northern King.

The Lion is the sigil of the Percy Family, whose genealogy can be traced back almost 1000 years. The family still have residence in Alnwick Castle, but throughout history also occupied near-by Warkworth. Statues and coats of arms of the Lion can be seen throughout Northumberland.

This is part 2 of the Story of the Northlands! I hope you will follow to see more to come.

@AmyRichardson7

The Untold Stories of the Northlands

In the Northlands Ancient old,
Where castle keeps defend their hold,
Where many a great battle fought,
But the fear was set from what they brought,
For magic comes from blood that’s shed,
And spawns from souls lost and dead.
The whispers spread throughout the wars,
Of monsters, myths, beasts and boars,
They says there’s truth in what stories hold,
And now to you they shall be told.
But I warn you now these stories aren’t,
For those who have the faint of heart.

Since writing The Untold Stories of Scotland it has been in the back of my mind to warn you of the perils that lie in Northumberland! There’s monsters here that must be seen to believed, but I advise you not to seek trouble from these creatures. Instead I suggest you follow and read the stories I tell you, for if you ever face such beasts like the Percy Lion, you will know exactly what to do. So follow me and discover, the Untold stories of the Northlands!

@AmyRichardson7

The Untold Stories of Scotland

I set our tale, and from here we’re lost,
Upon the land of ice and frost,
Where myths lurk within the lochs,
Shadowed by the highland rocks!
Of legends, fables and History,
Cursed and coated in mystery,
On moors and mounds where thistles grow,
Or dusted in the October snow.
In the still, beasts roam and pillage,
And terrify their local village!

Of stories both new and old,
That of Nessie has most been told,
There dwells in water a giant eel,
Where speculation of if it’s real.
Some say it’s legend, just folklore,
Other say it could be a dinosaur.
But I for one would never swim,
In the loch for what’s within,
As if it wanted something to eat,
I’d rather it wasn’t my toes and feet!

Seen on dreary foggy days,
Across the glens the haggis play.
On Tuesday hunts with guns and hound,
They follow tracks left in the ground,
For 3 legged haggis raid farm and field,
Stealing sheep and oatmeal.
These pests found in burrows and digs,
Look a little like baby pigs!
I assure you they aren’t half as sweet,
But in Scotland they are great to eat!

The Kelpies or the water foals,
Feeds on hearts and broken souls.
They have the ability to change,
From glowing eyes and dripping
Mane,
To women whose beauty seeps,
And lures them into waters deep.
As men they can never resist,
The seducing temptation of being kissed.
So stay away from rivers and lakes,
Or yee too shall meet your fate.

The stodge, well it goes best in pies,
And the delicacy is it’s tail and eyes,
These bits are usually best served,
On Hogmanay as hot h’orderves
For it tastes so succulent and sweet,
As it feeds on tatties and ripened neeps.
In the country you will often find,
It Sat grazing on it’s big behind,
Commonly mistaken for a giant rat,
With a little more fur and fat!

The Wulvers are the hairy beasts,
That’ve left the poor a many feast.
They say they are part wolf, part man,
And live in groups called a clan.
In the hills they’re in a cave,
And are not like werewolves behave.
The legend says these mighty boars,
Leave fish and bread outside your doors,
In preparation for what winter brings,
They leave to those, wholesome things.

The Grock is not said but sung,
For the ‘R’ must roll right off the tongue,
There have been many stories said,
That he’ll grind your bones for his bread.
That he steals the sleeping out their room,
And takes them to awaiting doom.
For Grock came from way up high,
When the beanstalk fell from the sky.
But be glad that there is only one,
For half of Scotland would be gone!

For those that live north of here,
Know these are what to fear,
So if you venture past the wall,
Heed that yee have been warned.