Giles Watson's poetry and prose
The River Ock (upstream): Dark Water 1
FROM UFFINGTON TO THE SOURCE: 43
The water runs cold, dark and deep here. I once wrote a song with that rather cliched phrase in the chorus. I am singing it for the next few hundred yards:
The Kelpie
Chorus:
The rushes swaying by the river,
The water rippling in the breeze,
Scattering the wan reflections
Of the gaunt and budless trees.
“Take me, mother, to the river,
Where it runs cold, dark and deep,
To seek the soul of my dear brother
Where his body lies in sleep.”
Autumn pale was ending, a chill was in the air,
His mother sternly told him, “My little boy beware!
Never wander by the river, my dear darling child!”
Yet he wandered ever onward, deep into the wild.
Turgid was the water, dim and dark with peat,
Black was the mud that clung to his wee feet.
Dismal was the day, the rushes dripped with dew,
And dire were the auguries, if only Mother knew.
Chorus
A horse stood in the river, silent as the night,
And up tripped the little lad, joyful at the sight.
Darksome, motionless the mare, hair soaked by the rain,
And like the feathers of a raven hung the dripping mane.
He touched it on the muzzle, the eyelids open wide;
He reached to put his little hand upon its clammy side.
He grasped it by the fetlock, he tugged it by the tail,
Yet still the horse unblinking stood amid the evening pale.
Chorus
The boy stood up to his knees amid the stagnant mud;
The horse turned round to look at him with eyes as red as blood.
“Mummy warned me not to do it. Mummy said beware!”
Yet still he climbed upon its back and grasped its lanky hair.
He cried and trembled as the horse let out a lowly groan
And where the eyebrows should have been he saw a ridge of bone.
The boy let out a sharp shrill scream that echoed in the gloom;
The Kelpie sunk into the depths and dragged him to his doom.
Chorus
Autumn pale was ending, a chill was in the air,
“Don’t go where your poor brother went, I tell you girl, beware!
Never wander by the river, my dear darling child!”
Yet she wandered ever onward, deep into the wild.
For a cumulative photo-essay, see the 'River Ock' set on my photostream.
The River Ock (upstream): Dark Water 1
FROM UFFINGTON TO THE SOURCE: 43
The water runs cold, dark and deep here. I once wrote a song with that rather cliched phrase in the chorus. I am singing it for the next few hundred yards:
The Kelpie
Chorus:
The rushes swaying by the river,
The water rippling in the breeze,
Scattering the wan reflections
Of the gaunt and budless trees.
“Take me, mother, to the river,
Where it runs cold, dark and deep,
To seek the soul of my dear brother
Where his body lies in sleep.”
Autumn pale was ending, a chill was in the air,
His mother sternly told him, “My little boy beware!
Never wander by the river, my dear darling child!”
Yet he wandered ever onward, deep into the wild.
Turgid was the water, dim and dark with peat,
Black was the mud that clung to his wee feet.
Dismal was the day, the rushes dripped with dew,
And dire were the auguries, if only Mother knew.
Chorus
A horse stood in the river, silent as the night,
And up tripped the little lad, joyful at the sight.
Darksome, motionless the mare, hair soaked by the rain,
And like the feathers of a raven hung the dripping mane.
He touched it on the muzzle, the eyelids open wide;
He reached to put his little hand upon its clammy side.
He grasped it by the fetlock, he tugged it by the tail,
Yet still the horse unblinking stood amid the evening pale.
Chorus
The boy stood up to his knees amid the stagnant mud;
The horse turned round to look at him with eyes as red as blood.
“Mummy warned me not to do it. Mummy said beware!”
Yet still he climbed upon its back and grasped its lanky hair.
He cried and trembled as the horse let out a lowly groan
And where the eyebrows should have been he saw a ridge of bone.
The boy let out a sharp shrill scream that echoed in the gloom;
The Kelpie sunk into the depths and dragged him to his doom.
Chorus
Autumn pale was ending, a chill was in the air,
“Don’t go where your poor brother went, I tell you girl, beware!
Never wander by the river, my dear darling child!”
Yet she wandered ever onward, deep into the wild.
For a cumulative photo-essay, see the 'River Ock' set on my photostream.