Words Just Words, the Darlington Poet, John William Mowbray

By malcolm mowbray

58 poems written by the Darlington Poet, John William Mowbray covering nature, love, the north east of England

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9780244749705

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Words Just Words, the Darlington Poet, John William Mowbray

WORDS, JUST WORDS

The Darlington Poet

JOHN WILLIAM MOWBRAY

Malcolm Mowbray

COPYRIGHT

COPYRIGHT ©2019 by Malcolm Mowbray

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First year of printing2019

ISBN 978-0-244-74970-5

Published by Malcolm Mowbray

Malcolm Mowbray, Bernier, Lignac France 36370

[e-mail]

FOREWORD

From his early years my father, JOHN WILLIAM MOWBRAY, had been a prolific writer. Finally, over 30 years after his death I have the time and means to put his words into print for all the world to read and appreciate, and still there are more manuscripts for stories which I am determined to also get into print in the future.

In 2018 the first of his poem collections in a book entitled ‘DIRTY HANDS’ Poems of a Patriot, was published, which were written during the Second World War whilst he was working at the very dangerous Royal Ordnance Factory in Aycliffe. This book gives a layman’s view of the war and the thoughts, and worries, of those left at home working in the vital supplies network of the war effort. ‘DIRTY HANDS’ covers many topics of the day, morbid, humorous and emotional, facts which caught me by surprise as I read through his papers, because I never thought of him in that light, as he never really revealed that side of his character in daily life.

Several of the poems in this book ‘WORDS, JUST WORDS’ are of a romantic nature especially ‘MAY I REMIND YOU’ which could be read as a general loving poem to someone special. The title of this poem does however have quite a poignant aspect as my mother (his wife) was also called May, so I feel a great affinity to these words as I believe that they were written especially for her.

Other compositions which tugged at my emotions are ‘WHEN FLEDGELINGS FLY’ (which was untitled but I felt this heading appropriate), this is not so much a poem but his deepest thoughts jotted down on paper, I think for his eyes only, as it was the main way he had of expressing himself. My mother died in 1965 leaving him a widower, in 1968 when his article was written, my sister Margaret married and left home. The same year I flew the family nest for pasture new in the South of the country, leaving him alone.

‘THE CHANGING FACE OF LIFE’ also adds to his earlier words and speaks volumes on a subject which is probably prolific but unseen and therefore ignored.

LONELINESS!

Until just recently, having read his poems for the first time, especially ‘TO MY SON’ I never realised the effect that these events had on him. Although he vindicates our actions as a natural progression of life I still have an overwhelming sense of sorrow; and shame at my ignorance, that I never realised or was there to help in his solitary predicament. A lot of the problem probably lay in the era in which we lived, maybe it was still a bit Victorian, men never showing their emotions, stoic, straight backed, stiff upper lip and all of that. Many a time over the passing years I have had misgivings of that because my one big regret in life was that no matter how much I wanted to, I never felt it correct to take my parent in my arms, kiss them, (especially my father, another man) and say-

I LOVE YOU.

In a small way I hope that