Through The Years
A Selection of Poetry & Prose By

Allan D Stewart
1946 - 2005

Through The Years
Always There When The Youth of Yesterday Thoughts My Heart The Last Farwell Why Me The Wanderer The Missing Link Internet Love To My Special Friend What is Love The Windmills of my Mind

Life’s a Bitch Love On Line Broken Friendships Wishful Thinking The Loneliness of the Lonely Memory Lane Home Alone Our Christmas Message

Through The Years


This is the third book of poetry that I have written, and published over the last 40 years or so. Those of you who have read either of my previous books – ‘Just Me’ (1971) and “Through The Windmills of my mind” (1983) will recognise several of the pieces in this book, along with some relatively new pieces with a link to the World Wide Web and the Internet. I have used the word published. That however, is just a dream. What it does mean is that I wrote, typed, proof read, retyped, printed and photo copied them and put them into folders myself. That means you wont find any of my books on library shelves, not just yet. Over the years, both readers and critics of my work have all come up with the same question, albeit phrased in different ways – and that is – ‘Where do you find your inspiration’? Well I could have used that old cliché that says 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration; but that would not be true. I actually find it a close to home. My inspiration comes from something that breaths, from something that has nothing to do with culture or religion, class or creed. I find my inspiration in LIFE itself. Let me explain. In any one day of anyone’s life, they will have to face a whole myriad of feelings and

although I was surrounded by many other’s. The same feelings that I had when holding my newborn son for the first time. For the first time in my life I was alone. or how you feel when you come across injustice. I was heading for pastures new and places I had only dreamt about. It was first written over thirty five years ago. honesty. truth. alone to stand on my own two feet. And I was alone. understanding. taken my parents for granted… for whenever I had needed them. the emotions I have on receiving a letter from a dear but distant friend. some probably feeling just as I was . Prior to that time in my life I had. for you cant have sunshine without rain. On the other side of the coin you have those not so nice.but to me I felt alone. demands a place in every book I write. many more emotions that I don’t have a name for or room enough to print them all. though not actually poetry. alone to follow my own path in life.emotions. your reaction when you have spent twenty minutes in a Post Office queue and it closes just as you reach the front.a dedication to two wonderful loving people that were……” Always There As the ship sailed out of the harbour. Emotions such as anger – the sort you feel when you come across cruelty to animals or humans. of loneliness. somehow. or as alone as one can be on a ship with a crew of 2000 . A Poet . and deal with them in their own unique way. or my boss gives me a compliment. boys and men. somewhere. perhaps a hidden memory. One emotion that you will come across in my poetry. I felt the first pangs. That feeling of desolation. in the hope that those that view his work might somehow share in the emotions he felt as he painted the piece. but oh so necessary emotions. both for me. Emotions such as love and joy. they had always been there. An artist will often paint something that he sees or has seen. of wanting to belong to someone. A Poet can be likened to an Artist.but…this is exactly what it was at that time . However. a few more lines were added to this piece of prose .I felt so alone. there was no familiarity around me. Allan D Steweart Milton Keynes – December 2005 1 This first piece. stupidity or ignorance. in what you are about to read.paints pictures with words. betrayal and many. and maybe a better understanding of me. and as time passed by. A lot of water has passed under the keels since then. As I settled down that first night. is loneliness. I must admit. I was alone. I hope you find pleasure. and into the wide blue yonder. that strange feeling of being homesick. confusion. and for my . Everything was so different. you will also find humour. when I was a young and inexperienced sailor joining my very first ship. alone to make my own decisions. the way I feel when a stranger smiles at me.

saved the world. a shoulder to cry on . and I have even heard some say. In times of illness a comforting hand In times of sorrow.The doctors could do no more . even in absence. There to help.Each time vowing that this would be the last time. and sorrow. and had children of their own. that now we are all grown up.this dedication was first written many years ago. she was an Angel without wings. They were there when -as a very young child. My father was so often serving hid country far away at sea.that we are Mums and Dads ourselves. They were there throughout my childhood. and us..In times of anger. They were there.They were there to share in the joy of the birth of my son and then in the death of my marriage. 2 There have been many times in my life. my beloved mother passed away some years ago. and if they ever need me. and had received a bruised head. When your feeling so alone and so sad… and in deep despair. for them. to guide.seven brothers and one solitary sister. understanding. had fallen off. in times of pain. I truly hope that I will always be there. A father. a friend and a mate all rolled into one.…a friend to help and guide me in my hour of need. and has been added to as the years passed by. and an even bigger bruised ego. Each and every time I fell in and out of love . it was such a tragic loss. as each met. Sadly. Thank God I still have my Dad. As I said at the beginning of this piece . In time. There. and to love each grandchild. and hope. we will >>>>>> always need them. Twice.a friend just to talk to. I cannot agree -No matter how old we grow. how rich we become. yet his love and presence were forever there with us. their twilight hours. but I still have my memories. please remember these words……” WHEN When you reach out your hand… but find nobody there. in harmony and peace.Only the will to live. to return home to her loving husband and loving family that needed her so much. so dangerously ill after a major operation . from a tragic loss. For him. My mother. courted and married. and start all over again. when I have felt so very alone . They were there. When you really need a friend…. I will always be there. as each of us grew. If you should ever need someone. in size and stature. I believe that we should let them live these. A saint without halo. They were there. There to help me pick up the pieces. we dont need Mum and Dad anymore . as a child of their own……… Some may think. . They were there.times when I would have given anything just to have a friend . and I still have their love. I found such friends. I had stolen a ride on the tow bar of an Ice Cream Van.

compassion and care. in time of need. I can show you the way. 3 They help us to read and to understand They nurture the hopes and the dream we have planned From the moment we take our very first breath . They are the building blocks of memories and dreams. I will always be there. I will be there Though I cannot promise you an answer to everything.but never lead. I will try to ease your suffering. sisters or brothers. They are a necessary part of life it seems. They are the prompters of all that we do or say.I will be there. When you feel that you are being used…. When your mind is so full of confusion and your heart is so full of doubt. ”This next piece is the shortest in the entire book. When you feel that life itself has dealt you a rough deal. . But…most of all…. They can be joyful or happy – sorrowful or sad. When you need a friend just shout And . I can help by understanding the way that you feel…. When the dreams you had planned no longer seem very real.I will be there. Those dark secret thoughts that you dare not reveal. yet it describes exactly what this book contains – my thoughts – which – along with my emotions . They can be deep or fleeting – good and bad…… They are our own. When your heart is full of such pain that time alone can never heal. And need to talk it out. I can offer you guidance. I can offer you time. yet so very often of others… …strangers.. create the backbone to every poem” Thoughts Thoughts. They fill our minds a million times of a day. friends.

and to win is always right. The Youth of Yesterday . loses hope. I could still faintly see the Old Mans face. They have been here beside me every day of my life…. . A world where Strength and Winning is the name of the game and with that comes Power. I was serving on a warship on coastal patrol in the Persian Gulf. has caused many tragic wars where brother will fight brother in the name of the cause where Life and Death are decided behind closed doors Where Peace -is just another word for a conflict pause A world where each religion insists that God is on their side. This is a world where Ultimate Power is the aim of one and all A world where nations rise. one always has to fight. what happened to the millions of people that died Does any one really know -. Thoughts. as a young sailor. some believe. is there really.contains but a few. A gun in the hand and a prayer on the mouth.with you. These thoughts echoed my feelings at that time .And even beyond. As I thought on how best to answer him… the stars in the heavens and the moon grew dim. a Heaven or Hell?” The Arabs.The Old Man of Tomorrow “What is thy purpose on the earth my son? the Old Man asked of me – as we stood on a cloud. Peace is just a word. Ireland. loses face Yet where the only real loser -is the human race. Thoughts from deep within my heart That I would like to share . “ In this hostile world of ours. Yet. Glory and Fame Where the loser.can anyone ever tell… Where did they go to. the Israelis. If one is to be the strongest. North and South.but never really heard. our death. for the human race and so . raging sea .I answered him. loses faith.of people.”.” It is a world where to lose is wrong. high above the Earth a warring. Often spoken of. so full of love and compassion. It was originally written in the early 70’s. to signify my view of this world -it would be this one. “ If I was asked to choose the one piece from all the poems that I have written. and just as swiftly fall.and now reading it again I realize that nothing much has changed – and in my mind I can still hear the haunting words of……. . If so.” It is a world where religion. No wonder its people find it so hard to unite. This book .when.

shed ..as most religions do? What is so different about the way we offer our prayers? be it kneeling on mats.. If we accepted that in life. To show people that Life really could be worth living… if we were more caring. Then . more loving and much more forgiving. . I continued by saying-…I know… .…Devastation And we call ourselves a peace loving nation?” My purpose on Earth. Why should we care about the colour of a mans skin? Surely what’s more important is the soul that lies within? What is so different between a Muslim and a Jew… they both worship One God….Bombing . between class and creed. and Goodwill to all Mankind.to me. and I will pray. As I looked down. at the Earth far below… an anger within me began to grow So. we are not all the same.in my words . that we dont really need? As I paused to consider on what else I had to say. of Gods Universal plan.. Or…. I looked up at the Old Man…. by missile by the gun or by the sword. Yet not before I had seen.is true Religion…just a state of mind? We are all Gods children -or so the Bible tells So what is that lights the fuse. or Jealousy…or just plain Greed…. What difference if we worship in a synagogue in a Mosque in our homes or in a Church? If it is for the same purpose we pray and search…. so very clear Yet -…a rather impossible dream I fear. but could not disguise tears for the failure. what is it that impels men to kill and to maim. Is it Power. I will write.or sitting on chairs. that some will eventually hear my words. Wanting something from life. in the name of the Lord ? By bombing..” 4 My aim is to bring unity.Murdering . the tears in his eyes… tears that he tried.but he quickly looked away.for the stupidity of Man. for Peace on Earth.and in my every deed. in my actions . in the hope.Peace could be more. is. that others may read. .… But I will speak. tears of blood. than just a name.

my heart began to quicken and my pulse began to race! For it was then that I began to realize With a sense of determination and sorrow that I was that Youth of Yesterday and . When faith.that I will one day.pure. It has known the joy in sharing the love of colleagues and friends. The tearing apart of life itself by some invisible force. But someone has to start so that others may lead. Yet -it has also faced the bitterness -and the heartache of divorce. like you. a different story. succeed.someone perhaps…. It has known the joy of tenderness -of love.” As I finished speaking. Yet somehow. that might. This was my answer. that never ends. and the happiness of the wondrous birth of a child.!!! 5 “This next poem. It has felt the emotion. And touched the very heart Of a love. it still beats on . and undefiled. head anywhere. was written not so many years ago. It as also lost the will to live………. a different page… in the Book of Life. and even faint hope. It awaits the day.a tender caress. in writing. with time and age. to try soldier on. and the trust. Each love. the bitterness and the pain and the loneliness when one has to face The loss of that special ‘someone’ who can never be replaced. are gone.…the Old Man of Tomorrow. a time when I was in a relationship. My Heart It has shared the youthful experience of romance. Pure and new. of children . My partner of the time had asked me to tell her. sincere and true.This old and weary heart of mine. my true feelings about our relationship. or might not. . When joy and passion . When life is worth living -every moment of every day. but as I did so. and tenderness are found in a smile . Each romance. the Old Mans face.it’s eternal rhythm of Life. The love. is scarred. And time does dimmer the memories of sorrow and strife. My greatest hope is .that the task I have set myself is daunting indeed. when someone new rekindles the flame . It has survived the anger. It has travelled to the very depths of despair. the light returned and now I could clearly see.

and with care. If my heart should beat. though the children are there – The house seems so empty. I really have to go” The hooting of the tugs as the ship pulled away. Little Jimmy asks “Where’s Daddy” You reply – “He’s gone away” Silence. my dearest friend . Then – those first bitter moments of loneliness As you remember his touch. Imagine what it must be like for a Sailor. and separation. again. Why did he have to go away. and you alone with a love. Please treat it. With tenderness. so bleak and so bare. didn’t he want to stay” Later that night with the children in bed and past asleep 6 . now cloudy and grey. your own. Now try to imagine what it would be like to be torn away from your family. and my heart should someday become entwined. for you. your home.that said” I love you. The sorrow. Then…. in a comfortable chairin your comfortable home. Before you actually tie the knot please bare this thought in mind. It’s duty. You silently whispered a prayer – “Lord bring him back safely to me”. But now – you are alone. your loved ones. just part of the price – Of being a Sailors wife? As you slowly left the dockyard and made your way home – A ship slipped out of the harbour and into the raging foam. The waiting ship. so clearly now. more than you will ever know… And though it breaks my heart.”Why Mummy. You are probably sat reading this poem. The sky matching your every mood. or even the sailors wife: The Last Farewell You remember that day. The sadness. The Jetty. Alone to think. one that all sailors must obey. as you would.And so. that is so deep and so rare. The trembling lip. his caress. Alone to cry. his kiss. Alone to ask yourself…why? Why was each parting such bitter sweet sorrow. When you reach home. To preserve the freedom of our homeland and sea. Who would be there for every tomorrow To wipe away the tears that would fall like summer rain? Were loneliness.to you…. If your heart. or maybe far away. The dockyard. It’s destination – who knows – somewhere near.this I say. The kiss .

drift away into the deep And you remember another time. in harmony and peace until the sands of time begin to cease when all sailors must answer. I wanted to travel before I settled down With a wife. for some word. secrecy and silence. Yet – still you asked yourself. “are there many other wives like me. each day. And so. the emptiness of every tomorrow. your nights and your days. will be much more than just a name. just like today You remember how it was – the last time he went away. that I went to sea.Your thoughts and your mind. to the ringing of the ships bell . a willing bride. You cam live your lives together. will one day feel the same and you will be more than just a photograph in a golden frame and the children’s daddy. After seventeen years I grew tired of the life and the heartbreaking months and years away from my wife. So I signed up for nine long years & travelled far and wide My home each ship I served on . Yet. a life at sea 7 no longer held any pleasure. I can promise you that your loved one. were filled with tears. I was once a wanderer to And I left behind me. My father had been a sailor for over twenty years Listening to his many stories had given me ideas I wanted to see for myself. Endless drills.the sea. it was not for a life of adventure. this is not story. Then love will become once more a reality – and not – just a memory. It was just a lifestyle that had appealed to me. no more sorrow No more having to face alone. my country -and my wife and son. A life of adventure. Yet a sailors life at sea does have a serious side . There will be no more loneliness. children & job in an anywhere town. this story’s other side That of that sailor so far away at sea For not so long ago – that was me. far out at sea Preparing for war or any other eventuality. Married to a man. How each month seem to last for a hundred years.” My friend. How at first. How you longed. About a love that died For now you will discover. those far away places I wanted to met different people. someone special. Just like that sailor. different races. with my final voyage done I returned home to England. like you. whose first love is the sea. or excitement for me…. maybe a letter And how each loving word made you feel so much better.

suddenly it dawned on me……. “This piece was written just a few month’s ago…. “is now happening to you. replied the voice – “my name. I saw smoke. I couldn’t move. you know me. it is your turn now. why -was it fear Was that day .” And then. The reason will become apparent very soon after you commence reading…yet still I would ask… Why Me ? The shock.said the voice.was I alive.even children to. . in different tongues.millions of them has been eating you away……. So. is Stat” I answered him -”Stat who -… I have never heard of you Leave me alone-go away-. I saw thousands upon thousands of corpses… Each one smoking a cigarette! I watched. I heard as they all cried out. said the voice and yes. I could hear a voice calling me in my head. Yet. I asked -what do you want ? is this just a warning or .leave me be. I saw black lungs-dead hearts -I saw disease. I was completely dumb. now you know. But . you know why. as the smoke went down in to their lungs.and requires no introduction. The agonising pain… that shot across my chest down my right arm… and then back again. clinging to and blocking their arteries. I asked myself swiftly.” No.. I saw old people-young people. or dead? Who are you. and you know how!” And then before me was a sight. I felt paralysed. Every cigarette you smoked. 8 . “This”.. One that I will never forget.finally here? I couldn’t see -I couldn’t speak.do you just want to chat.for that final trip – to Heaven – The Last Farewell.

Regardless of the danger to the children and my wife I had seen the adverts -read the warnings But had ignored them. There was nobody else but myself to blame Who are you. I have never visited there since…. unkempt and scraggy…… he wore patched up trousers. all torn and baggy… .. I repeated.the voice replied… the process has begun” But I will change. or do you need a clue? This is nothing personal he said. strolling aimlessly along. To late! . Perhaps then people will listen with every breath And stop smoking themselves-to death. I will never smoke another one”. But why! I cried! Why now-why me? Why not.but I can vividly remember……” The Wanderer As I sat there. but I cant give you a break. or what?” Oh yes. but doing no wrong. he replied -I almost forgot!… my name is Stat . Close by I could smell.” “So what happens now”. he replied-and I had to agree Nobody had forced me to smoke all my life…. I asked. For I have my quota of people to take. I cried. you must have heard of me.was the reply-Your losing this match. Stumbling and limping-he made his way to a bench. his dirty stench…… He had long knotted hair. To late.or statistics to you. just the same.Don’t you remember the rasping cough and that horrible black phlegm?” But I will change. I will try that thing I read about-the patch.I cried out. my conscience.“am I going to die?” “Yes” he replied –“you are the weakest linkgoodbye” The next piece was written as a result of a pleasant afternoon’s stroll through a small park in Devonport England. Mumbling quietly to himself. I watched him.

a Wanderer Old Nicholas. just a few minutes later…. He hobbled out of the park. nowhere. Upon it stood an angel . awkward and slow. I found it. Perhaps he was looking for someone. . it had stood there year after year-Alone. May be he really was looking for someone… his memory his guiding lamp But to me. As our eyes met. looking around. Around it were insets of wreaths. somewhere. A magnificent sight. he glared suspiciously at me.the Tramp. stood a cross. Stood.that it angered me that nobody really cared for: – The Monument It stood in a corner of the park. As I looked on. He finished his meal.. some place. he was just .partly hidden from view by some scraggy bushes..with a tear in its eye. In its hand. All the time. Or see this angel –or-the wreath in its hand. with his few black teeth. in memoriam. a very moving sight… As I watched the sun setting behind the monument – bringing on the night. It stood there. It looked so neglected and so lonely…. Then he shivered and coughed. it grieves… for those who would never return to this fair land. I smiled . partly hidden from view.yet clearly visited by very few. on every side. He wore odd shoes -perhaps he couldn’t find. he began to chew. 9 He pulled from a carrier bag. the Angel held a wreath of holly leaves. a pair. Alone. And as I looked upon it -…I sighed. uncontrollably Though it was a warm and pleasant sunny day. A tribute. though now covered in moss. rising up into the sky. and turned to go his movements.I came across a large marble cross…. a crusty roll or two. staring here and there. for he had no abode.The rest of clothing was in dire need of repair. and away down the road Heading somewhere. alone. “In the same park.but he quickly looked away. Mounted high above the figure.

but I can show you the way And hope that you understand. it is You -who decides the way the role in life. or danger. Did anybody really care about the dead? For that monument was clearly in need of repair. on the Internet” The Missing Link What is it. the usuality of being a mother. that you seek? To climb that illusive mountain and to reach passions peak? Is your life so dull without it and your future. All that I can do is hope.and pray That one day you will find the missing link That is missing from your life. that you play. or so they sayand as you walk along the road of life. Tomorrow is a new beginning Of a brand new dawn Don’t give in your depression and sorrow . I cannot lead you. that is missing from your life? What is it. and a wife? What is it that cuts into your heart like a Surgeons knife? Is it excitement. For those that died the inscription said. Could nobody bother-did nobody care? Or was that monument just meant to be… Like the war in which those men had died… Just a faded memory ? 10 “This next poem is relevant to so many people that I have met. is what you make it.I wondered ……. Yet. . and heart. that brings you so much sorrow and strife? Is it the boredom..For that solitary figure and that mighty cross Were a dedication to the city’s greatest loss. now. seems so empty And the sky so dull and grey. the things I say. And that in your life -I can play a small part My talking to you is a start. though your world. so bleak? Life. and spoken to.

Searching for the right woman. and a bore? I do not know the answers. many a sleepless night. an over rated emotion? Is it true. Yet too often ends in divorce. Yet. That special someone. all that I have to give. with ordinary needs Who tries to show love. of the Lord above I will know the answer to-what is Love? . honour. who will accept me.to forgive.. Or insomnia. or is it none of these? 11 Is it fleeting or eternal. Can it really give you. Is it the answer to a prayer. Is it a desire to be needed. An ordinary man. Is it life. become a burden. or a dream come true.love is it really. What--. a lifetimes desire that burns within me like a raging fire.. Perhaps then – With the grace and goodness. searching for a reason to live. and will do all my life. for they are hidden. nor a timid lamb. to become my wife. plan for tomorrow And make that new start in your life Today. a desire to please.. and sometimes succeeds. and to cherish for as long as we both shall live. to these questions I ask. my search for it has been. will it last for ever more. that church bells ring Whenever he or she comes into sight. deep within each heart like a face behind a mask.Don’t dwell in that world of dismay… Forget the past. To love. Or -is just a racing heart beat -ringing in your ears. as is said. Neither a roaring lion. To forget the bitterness of the past And then perhaps…. a gift from above. in time. just as I am. Or does it.. is it hope. A woman that will return. loves funeral pyre. eternal devotion or is it just.? Is it love that we remember in our memories.is Love ? What is this feeling. Does it bring with it. caused by your unconscious fears. Yet. still I carry on. that people call . Just an ordinary man.

sorrow. about the real you.” From The Windmills of my Mind It was. character. We talked how you had been badly affected by fear of rejectionand how that was affecting you now. an Astrological Chart.– A need for a direction in life and a need to be set free – To follow a dream that she had had al her life – To escape from restriction. anywhere on Earth. It is a story that unless you know the power of the internet.“It is purely coincidental that this poem has the same title as my last book of poetry. no other title would fit the story that I am about to unfold. you will never understand. Yet. I learnt more and more about your life and struggles many years before. from you to me. and spoke. and strife. So we chatted away on IM as thousand now do. soon I began to realise that what I could read before my very eyes was not an average chart – for this woman thought. fear and insecurity. For those who don’t know what Astrology is it is a method of creating an analysis of your nature. Your birth chart started. Little did I know then. Yet. As the days and weeks passed by. the more I could see that in many ways you were so very like me – . What was truly amazing was that we had never met and yet – I felt I could learn a lot more. as you said. how fate was to play a part. by reflection The more I heard and learnt. to me. your real personality – from given planetary positions in place at your birth and you could have been born. depression. just the same as any other – It showed you to be both a wife and a loving mother. You asked me to produce for you. However. It was the next stage of our friendship – I was as nervous as I could ever be. 12 I saw anger.it all started so innocently. yet it meant so much more that that. with a simple request. from her heart. just a telephone call.

I began to see that you were becoming more than just a friend. purely as a friend – so I kept my thoughts hidden until the bitter end. for now you know what lies within – The Windmills . gently. . to me.of my Mind. soon. you had asked for my advice. stop and take a closer look. my secret was out.a normal person who needed a friend in times of sorrow – one who could show you how to leave that past behind and face the future with a stronger determined mind. We talk of bad times and good times. The advice I gave you came. until I could no longer hide my feelings for you – I was in such a panic. at last. but what if you felt as I did. was true. to stop and speak. We share a special friendship that is quite unique and we always find time on line. old times and new – Just as any special friends would do. Then. from your chart But also. if you truly cared – so though my mind was full of indecision and doubt’ I eventually told you. You listened as I opened my heart to you knowing that everything I thought. and from my heart. Only you and I will know the words spoken last night but I know now that the future. from experience.” If you should see me lying here Please don’t just pass me by – With a sad -Oh Dear – Please. 13 I am thankful that I had a wonderful mum and dad throughout my formative years – but I cant help but wonder what would have happened if I had had neither. I am happy with that for we are two of a kind. partly. But. and truthfully. Should I tell you – and risk losing the very special friendship that we shared. you explained how you felt about me. or said. I didn’t know just what to do. looks bright. honestly. to soon. However.

I felt that my life might as well be over now for the future looked so dim. but never knew my dad. and a cad. I had a loving mother. just maybe. Life’s A Bitch I was born.I would be grateful for the time you took. I felt so unwanted. might improve. with this change. I do know. I thought. as they took her away. so I have heard. After some discussion I was given away. and so bad – mum had been the only comfort I had.with a big fat cat who hated me from the moment we first set eyes on one another. I will never ever know. They took me in a car. all fair and square but my brother and sister were a brutish pair. I shared my new home . to the friend of a friend of a friend as they say. That scrawny little runt. and so alone. Perhaps. I grew up. At mealtimes I was always the one who was left out and all I got for complaining was a clout. al skin and bone. My mother tried to feed us. if you have just a minute or two let me tell you how it was for me and how it could be . a flat. many years ago though the date and the time. I missed by sister and brother… 14 . I cried and cried. As a result.is what they used to call me. It must have been some distance for the journey took half a day. and my future. this move my life. to a place far away. Suddenly. but I hear he was a bit of a dog. and maybe. look deep within my eyes. Look closer. you will begin to realise that what you see before you in this cage like cell has a poignant and harrowing story to tell. Then came that awful day that my mother died. that I was the youngest of three. unloved. My new home was very small It was in what I think you would call. So please.for you.

at play. again and again. so I slept at night On a dirty old mattress where the bed bugs did bite! My meals were scraps of food left over from each meal. At first life was hard. That cat. I just ran. For the first time in my life. They say I was rescued by some gentlemenwho took me to someone’s home and put me in a bed. Then they took me to some man to repair my broken limb. they took me. I remember the pain. And even though I fought them with all my might When they had finished with me. and fed. What had I done. wherever I decided to lay. My new home now would be. and decent food was still very rare – but I survived. When I awoke. I was cared for at last. sat on a cushion made of sable being fed tasty morsels from a well spread table.Any hopes that my new home would be an improvement. I cannot remember much as to what happened then. with the car. that little orphan stray? Well. I spent my nights sleeping or hunting for prey and spent my days with friends. until I was very far away. I was washed. and fed well every dayBut why did they call me. with the occasional Rabbit or Hare – or whatever I could steal. And then came that terrible day. I remember the darkness. I didn’t even have a bed. One leg was broken with a savage bite Then worst of all. One day. it was late one night. by courage or dare. was soon kicked out of me. I remember feeling sleepy as the lights grew dim. however. to receive such a rough deal. will still depend on whether you are looking for a companion . I was a terrible sight. I decided that I had suffered enough Surely I could do better than this even if it meant living rough? So I escaped one day when a door was left ajareven then. Life moved on. that is my story but I hope its not the end for what lies in my future.they tried to run me down. that I got into a fightI was attacked by a pack of dogs. I was washed and fed – again and given injections to take away the pain. and by and by I am glad to say I grew stronger and bolder with every passing day. and ran.

who will bring you hours of pleasure my friend. For me. nothing more. A need to share with you. But. like a tiny seed As I listened. be you a saint. was now the time.” Is this real Love How do you know it. it was just a sudden realisation. our hopes. a sinner or a witch For what you see is what I am A homeless and lonely. The feelings that I felt were such that I could not ignore. you will not understand how the following happened to me. my life. . grew and grew. Yet. the more we spoke and chatted. I recognised them as love. the more I found that this seed that had been planted could no longer remain underground I could no longer hide. Chat rooms and e-mails. for the written word can often be misread]. and how it could. was it pity. my happiness. when you have fallen in love. nothing less. or some other deep emotion or was it wishful thinking and a desire for devotion? When it happened. I didn’t know just what to do. does it hit you. IM’s. But these things.. and as I learnt. it was something . these emotions that I was feeling – what was it about you that I found so appealing Was it just sorrow. and everything became clear to me so sudden and unexpectedly. for I had loved before. like a massive thunderbolt from above? Is it prompted by the written word. Doberman bitch! 15 “Unless you are into the World Wide Web. and our dreams we shared so many thoughts and needs. It could only be love. more and more about you this seed of friendship. it seems. something said? [ Be careful. happen to you………. the joy I had found. As we talked about our pasts.very different indeed it was a thought planted in my mind. I don’t care what you are. to reveal all to you – or should I wait.

hurdles to be crossed – As we face them together Lets just hope the dream does not become lost. Will this love we share now. if we are honest. sincere and true We cannot fail. If what we have now is love. is precious and new Lets face the future together. . and hope. what of the future. There are problems to be faced. me and you. what does it hold in store – I don’t know the answer for this has never happened to me before. That one day. and dream.So. be strong enough to last – or am I moving to fast – For you? Let us just accept that what we have. in all we do. and pray. > > > > > > I can only take each day as it comes. as they say. and think. all my hopes and dreams will come true that true love will blossom for me and for you.

not the past. Where is that person who had become a big part of my life? Has our special friendship. here today and gone tomorrow. Focus on the present. you only know what the person you befriend wants you to know. disputes. Who will support you when you are in the right? Who will defend and back you in a verbal fight? Who will always be there for you.When that friend. why are e-mails never replied has that special friendship.Friendships. But. sorrow. has someone been telling her untruths or lies – If so. reached its end – Are you listening . day or night? A Friend. suddenly turns away and wont even say hello or give you the time of daywho take away your sunshine and leaves your life a murky grey? You ask. especially those that are formed through the Internet and chat rooms. please stop and realise – That your friendship to me is a very special thing And I had hoped that our friendship would last. always on – where has that bond of friendship you once shared. something I might have said? [You swiftly go through the last conversation in your head] You ask her. can be brief and fragile. what happens . or honest and caring.my friend? . why did it happen. Dishonesty can lead to Arguments. and the future.. just died? Why is her away sign. and”:--Broken Friendships Who do you turn to when your feeling rather low? Where do you head for when there’s nowhere else to go? Who will always be there to cushion the blow? A Friend. gone? Was it something somebody did. But. Who gets you to smile when you really want to cry? Who always help you to keep your head held high? Who always says aur revioir – never goodbye? A Friend.are you there . my dearest friend.

a day of celebration – the very air was full of joy and elationas they made their pledges and vowed to be true to each other. So I went. Yes. Time to get out and meet people. Though I was still recovering from a second divorce I was drawn to their marriage by some invisible force. they had had a fair start. I had known the bride and groom for a number of years. As I watched them. why . in a bit of wishful thinking. as I went to a friends second marriage marriage service. he would be much older nowBut still I ask myself. that had been long ago. I wished them every success.“ This poem is simply a collection of thoughts that went through my mind. before that joy had been torn away. Seven years together so far . it lead to”:--Wishful Thinking Against my better wishes I decided to go To the second wedding of a good friend I know.perhaps I had felt that the time was right to forget the nightmares that haunted me each night. getting married that day -– or that I had been the father giving the lovely bride awayor that I had such a lovely daughter as their Mary May. I then remembered all the games that I used to playWith my son. for all eternity. as the other guests stood around chatting and drinking – I indulged myself. They had been there for me and has shed my tears – but this was their day . I had just become divorced for the second time. I wished it had been me. from the bottom of my heart. and their six year old daughter as I felt their togetherness. just maybe then I could start to live again.and how? Many years have passed on since that lovely wedding day And that marriage grows even stronger I am glad to say. Yet. But my thoughts on that occasion for ever more will be- . and maybe.

matching my gloom. I saw them. They did not see me as I entered my hotel roomthe darkness of the night. He certainly looked out of place. I had faced many such partings before through the years and each time I had shed a million tears.Remembered. as I swiftly passed them by – yet I cared not that they saw me cry – for I could not hide my breaking heart that breaks more and more the further. in this book-and in my memory. It was no wonder. People. Yet each parting became much harder Then the one before – and I wondered.could I take much more? People. many years ago when I was a lot younger – it is full of loneliness and sorrow – it was written at a time when ‘real’ men didn’t show their emotions. As a sailor. was a young man – tears running down his face. . It was written many. They did not see me as I knelt beside my bed and bowed my head in prayer. “This poem is not one of my personal favourites. It shows distress and desolation – It shows in every word” :--The Loneliness of the Lonely People. They did not hear me as I prayed to God above To protect the child and the woman. They passed me by with many a scornful stare. and the only reason it is appearing in this book is at the request of friends and colleagues. that I love. we are torn apart. for what they saw there before them.

waiting there for me. And for whom the tears flow. at the end of each day I will quietly kneel and pray – For the day I can reach out. > > > > > > To go home and find them. and Joy. however. this depression. and she will be thereMy life away from wife. People. is praying for the day. just three short years ago. this life I spend at sea. That day. and these endless goodbyes – For Peace. and these tears. To be able to share all our lives together as normal families do – Lord. is that to much to ask . They could not truly understand the way that I feel Only these words.The woman that I had married. and so very much more beside With my wonderful son.of you?– But until that time comes. can reveal Just how much I long to leave. may be many moons awayBut I know that she to. . and my beautiful loving bride. these tear stained eyesthis sorrow. is so very hard to bare. that I can change this emptiness.

from Portsmouth to Perth. a sense of nostalgia and a sentimental sigh.for ever more >>>>>> My first memory takes be back over thirty five years. a place. I see a young sailor aboard a ship. a name Someone who so affected you life would never be the same. I remember honour and duty but also bitterness and tears. – As he stands there thinking of those he left behind – A time. and a name come to mind. I remember two marriages and nine years at sea…so join me now As I take a leisurely stroll down……… Memory Lane Memories. I see sorrow in his eyes as he struggles to keep a grip on his feeling. Some pages may be missing. You remember a special place. or a film you both saw All are stored away in your memory . They are our personal journals of days long passed. Some of my memories may even relate to you. far and wide from Bournemouth to Bombay. but others linger and last – perhaps to be remembered at some later date. but I also the bad. staring out to sea from the bows of a mighty ship. .“As I draw back the veils of time and look back over the last fifty years – I can remember and relive wonderful moments. I remember places and people. That he seeks knowledge and adventure is plain But as I look into his heart. Your own memories may remember a face. a song. this is his first time away from family and friends will he last the year away .it all depends – for this is the life that he had decided to lead but it would be a very different life indeed. He is young.all I see right now is pain. They bring back powerful feelings such as happiness and sorrow Some may even bring a tear to the eye others.

just like him was probably lonely and going out of her mind.why Was he to blame. But then my joy turns to anger. and in the end . I see the terrible heartache of forced separation – As the wheels of progress take their inevitable course that lead to solicitors.Shirley.divorce. and her memory in his heart.where had he gone wrong? Yet this young man had both determination and strength and he knew that he would go to any length even to lay his life on the line for that illusive dream. Had he loved to much. together in their own private land. for as the years roll by I see this love. I hear them give their vows. just crumble and die. . He carried her love. had he been to soft. their love would keep them together. I see that young man again. bridegroom and blushing bride and I can feel how proud he was. his chosen career? If so. and hear the vicar bless our marriage. his duty had cost him very dear. it felt pretty damn good! I see a son and his father just walking hand in hand Lost. now so alone in his world – his heart so full of bitterness and strifeas he comes to terms with this tragedy of life. Another Marriage. with her by his side. lawyers. I hear him ask himself. final trip. I see them together. I watch him. though torn apart. > > > > > > > Next. a love divine. I see her standing there in a beautiful wedding dress. Next. A wonderful. Yet. was it this life. No longer do I see that sailor boy in the bows of a ship for in time he had completed his last. as the years pass swiftly by. this union. I see the wondrous joy of fatherhoodand let me assure you. to strong? Both wives had left him for another man So. beautiful woman with a heart so pure and kind Who. Another Divorce.

we may take a gentle stroll again From the past unto the present -– down Memory Lane. that young man had grown. he would accept something less. all he wanted was to settle down with a wife and family. still walking alone but in between those years. Real life. Now. . seen all he wanted to see. For my health has begun a general decline The body may be crap but the brain is fine.He had journeyed the world. Instead of a love perfection. your my reason for living but life I am afraid has been less forgiving. For I now have something that none can ever be take from me. Maybe one day. > > > >>> I found that love in you. So he searched on and on. As the years pass by I see him. True love. and my memory. in search of trust and happiness.

One special night she had finished work for the weekend and was heading……” Home – Alone Life working in the Security Industry Is long hours with little pay At least thats how it seemed to me on that Friday at the end of the day. no family. it would not be a treat.“This next piece was written some many years ago – and was written for a friend . The goodnights were short for I was busy on the phone As the office staff swiftly disappeared. I am thankful that I had the duty that Friday night Even though your day shift was done. there was a whole night aheadwhat should you do. No loved ones. Leaving me the controller to face the night alone It would be another long boring night I feared. The night was getting colder. Having done so you decided to have something to eat though as you were dining alone. You left work and drove to a house.just a couple of cats would be waiting there to greet you.but not a home for there was no special person there to greet you. It was only 8pm. nothing new or strange. You looked at your watch. so you turned up the heat. watch TV or go to bed? . But I knew that the night had for you no delight of a few beers or a night of fun. added to your gloom – as you headed up the stairs for a wash and a change and found everything as you had left it. As you entered the silent house into an even more silent room the darkness of the night.with the cats at your feet. probably beans on toast .who became my wife! We were both working shift work for the same company.

The past was over. as the past disappeared before your very eyes you suddenly. > > > > > > > Memories enter your mind. began to realise – that just because a marriage had failed in the past it shouldnt mean the end. I have been there dear friend.real-you. Well. You remember that loving night and every living day – Days that now. you mind made a leap to a time when you had a special man by your sidein your mind you saw a wedding. Apart. so many thoughts in your mind began to play that you wouldnt have been able to sleep anyway. I will ring my daughter and see if she would like a visit.He was gone. You needed the companionship that other couples share You needed someone to love you. and you wept. You were divorced. I to have known your loneliness and I have felt such pain but living in the past brought very little gain. where do I start you asked yourself? Am I to old. who could ever want someone like me? Tears fell from your eyes. and you were the bride. some to really care You needed someone. However. cruelty and pain And you wouldnt and coundnt go through all that again. Beauty does not diminish just as one is getting older. seem so very far awayBut you also remember. so it was back to TV or bed – But you decided to just sit and relax instead. Meet people. And then. so I know how you feel And how to get over it is no secret to reveal. the final. No answer. to be his lover or his wife. Real beauty lies within and in the eyes of the beholder. the last of love. and remember all the strife. it seems. . Make friends anew. from me. But. Get out. who would always be there. and let people see the. You needed a special person. Face the future.You thought. So why did you carry such a deeply troubled heart? You began to realise that to make something of your life You could not live the past. some of them painful and deep and before you could stop it. silently. am I stuck on the shelf? You asked.

Jesus. no matter what the cost. When that happens. so this dedication. the mighty.of yesterday. the poor. waiting for snow to fall? Did we really have balloons and festive streamers in the hall? Was the Christmas tree really ten foot tall As I close my eyes right now. of giving. is what Christmas should be all about but these days. true and sincereor is she just reading from an auto cue saying things that she thinks we need to hear? I would like to think that what she says is what she really means – not just prompted expressions and words from the producer behind the scenes. What has happened to those-good old days that I recall with much elation -– are my precious memories.the Queen begins to speak – to pass her Christmas Message to her subjects. the last. I can see each smiling face . everywhere – the rich. That. to teach us how to love one another.God willing. To teach us how to live. How he came to earth as a gift. will swiftly drift away – And with it. “The very first poem in this book was a dedication to My Mum and Dad. At Christmas time we also hear the timeless story told of the baby infant. Sadly our beloved Mum died some years ago. I have often wondered if the words she says are meant. just a figment of my imagination? Were they really as wonderful as I like to recall ? Did I watch out of every window. and so is this. The true meaning of Christmas. has been lost along the way. from our father above. born in a stable dark and cold. written before she died – has even more special meaning” Our Christmas Message At 3pm each Christmas Day . Children want the latest toys. you will one day find that special man who will bring you the happiness that only true love can. the past. Yet. as it appears to meeverything revolves around money – pleasure and luxury. those sad memories . the weak. the famous.

Even you dear mother. – Christmas Stockings. Who knows what lies ahead. in a wonderful memory.as each parcel was opened. in hospital and near death We were in your deepest thoughts and on your every breath We want to say thank you . what each tomorrow may hold We just face each day and each challenge as it starts to unfold Though we cannot go back and live those days – as special as they may be. the laughter and joy Of Christmas Time -when I was just a boy. since this poem was first writ and every year now. It cant be easy now. chocolate pennies too. in the good times and the bad – You gave us a reason to carry on when we felt lonely and sad. Yet. and our angel without wings. Thank you for showing us how to be patient and brave. for so many any things To our saint with a halo. Thank you for the love that you both s freely gave. You were always there. For showing us the way.we strayed For showing compassion when tempers became frayed. That is how I like to remember Christmas. As time passed by. to face the world alone even though he knows we are there at the end of a phone. So my message for him this year is. surrounded by my brood – I want to send you this message. every day. A New Doll. You were always willing to listen. or a secret fear. of thanks and gratitude. oranges. though his duties meant months apartHe carried our memories and our love deep within his heart. we all grew up. . Even Dad was there. A game or two. and one by one moved awayand now have families of our own with which to spend that special day. as I sit here smiling. and truly hear Of a dream. paper strewn al over the place A new bike. I find joy and peace in my heart. So many years have passed us by. a special candle is lit in memory of a wonderful mother who has sadly passed away yet in our thoughts and prayers. when-as often. try not to be too sadLook back on the Christmases that the family have had. a hope. for Dad.

Firstly. It was to be year before the family were reunited again. from how many eggs did the crew eat in a week. About a month prior to their due return to Plymouth at the end of the commission. to the great poets such as Browning and Albert Lord Tennyson. He says “this was also time I received most of my education. He had “adopted” a local school in Plymouth prior to the ships departure for the Mediterranean and Far East. when. but found he could put it better in the form of a poem or prose.I have been a friend of Allan’s now for as long as I can remember. he received over 20 different letters from pupils from the school. most of it was lost after his first divorce and his wife threw out any links she had of their marriage and his time in the Royal Navy. from famous writers such as Charles Dickens and Denis Wheatley. I have agreed to do so but let me warn you. England. It was also during this year that family life was turned upside down. and despite the tender years he insists he can remember people and places from that far back in his life. It was during his teenage years and at Secondary School that he discovered his love of the written word. a Royal Naval Aircraft Carrier that he took up writing in a big way. Although he wrote many poems at this time. It was shortly after his eight birthday that life changing events took place that were to have an affect on the rest of his life. as a sailor in the Royal Navy he found himself sailing away from Englands green and pleasant land. He lived in this village for the first eight years of his life. to places unknown. it wasnt until the early sixties. as one. Anyway. He tried to explain this strange adventure in letters. and had agreed to write to several pupils on a regular basis telling them about where the ship had been. the family were split up and sent to three different parts of the south coast. He had completed 2 of a 3 year postal course on Journalism and Creative writing but had had to give it up before the end for financial reasons It was whilst serving on HMS Eagle. As he put it in this introduction “I find it easier to put what I am thinking onto paper then into words from my mouth”. to what did you do when the ship was in Singapore? . the whole family uprooted and moved to another leafy little village called Denmead. In the 1970s he turned his writing from poetry to creative writing. what he had seen. there is nothing short about the life he has led so far. including my schooling in love” However. ect. here goes – Born in a small country village is West Sussex. when his mother and a few brothers were confirmed to have Tuberculosis . all wanting to know ‘everything’ about the trip. and he has asked me to write a short piece about him and his life.he was the second of what was to become a huge family of eight boys and one girl. which was not to far from Portsmouth where his dad served in the Royal Navy.as a result of which.

He is heavily involved in local community work and has also just finished writing his autobiography. so that others might understand. and in some way experience themselves. history. he says. It is all his work and contains his and other readers favourites over the last forty five years. contained many of his deepest and most personal thoughts. Just a year later. which also led him from Southampton. Friend. in prose and poetry. This latest book. This time it was entitled “From the Windmills of my mind” which.’ Through The Years’ is. in 1971 he produced his first book of poetry entitled ‘Just Me’. March 29th 2005 Milton Keynes England . it covered the culture. to Luton and to Milton Keynes where he now lives with his third wife June. first as a Security Officer and rising to Vetting and Training Officer. Unfortunately his health deteriated during this time and in 1996 he suffered a stroke that left him partially disabled and unable to carry out any gainful employment.--. the things I saw and thought about during those many months and years away from home” It was to be twelve years on. so I dont think that we have heard the last Of Allan Stewart. printed and put together 20 copies. * A copy of this turned up 20 years later and he has now rewritten it and corrected the glaring errors. people and anecdotes from each place they had visited. in 1983 that he produced his second book of poetry. if not the proof reading. his final volume. A. an attempt to put down my thoughts and experiences on paper. he says. he finally settled down to work for a National Security Company. to Reading. typed. he says. and a lot of his later work has written during this time. The result was ‘The Year of The Eagle’ which he wrote.not just yet. He has also been on the Internet for many years. > > > > > > > Although there were some glaring errors in the end product. he decided that instead of writing to each individual pupil he would write a journal for the school.As many of the questions were repeated in other letters. in less than a fortnight. As for the title. Many of the poems from his previous book were rewritten and recreated in the new version.“ that is basically what my poetry is all about. He left the Royal Navy in 1987 and after a succession of short term jobs.

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