Each Time there is Lightning
I am taken back to a campsite –
Appleby, a moment of moonlight
in the daytime, it seemed to me
aged four as I watched from the
caravan window. Or a field near Ripon
ten years later – a second of sunshine
at midnight, that lit up the car like daylight
as I walked back to the tent.
I don’t remember thunder, or rain,
as there was tonight, before I walked
into the city in search of a takeaway
on the last day of July, after a storm
which hasn’t cleared the air.
-Peter J Donnelly
Struck Mr. Kay
5.20 a.m. on Tuesday it were.
I were walking to work through Wombwell woods,
when a great storm overtook us, fair
surprised us watta comin’ dahn. I stood
wi Mr. Kay under a beech tree, known not
to be struck by leetnin. Not five minutes
when we were all skittled. Tell thee I’d not
heard crack, nor seen leetnin afore hit us.
Mark Kay were assistant colliery
checkweighman at Wombwell. Awake and wick
first I went to gamekeeper’s house for to see.
fetch help, on return. found his soul had flit.
Reet sorrowful for his wife. Distraught. No
money comin. In God’s hands her sorrow.
-Paul Brookes (From my Wombwell Cemetery Sonnets)
Bios And Links
-Peter J Donnelly
lives in York where he works as a hospital secretary. He has a degree in English Literature and a MA in Creative Writing from the University of Wales Lampeter.
He has been published in various magazines and anthologies, including Writer’s Egg where ‘Survival’ previously appeared. ‘Peppered Moth’ was included in the Ripon Poetry Festival anthology ‘Seeing Things’. ‘One Day on Dartmoor’ was highly commended in the Barn Owl Trust competition and published in their anthology ‘Wildlife Words’. It was also published online by the National Trust on their Fingle Woods webpage.