THE COMPLETE FIELDS OF RED BERRIES....Parts 1 To 4....By Steven Kenneth Scott 1. BEFORE THE BERRIES.....AN AWAKENING I awoke to another morning after the many nights before, Ready to receive my daily dose of Not So laughing gas. My mind playing tricks with those many images that I saw, Countless hopes and dreams which never came to pass Events during our times shared quickly entered my mind They cued up to haunt me like ants trooping one by one. Moments when there simply wasn’t a care for us to find, Days which like those dead were now buried and gone How could I misplace thoughts of time that had elapsed, Could those berries be an ally and a truest guiding hand. The memories of a Love which had somehow collapsed, Were now laid before me trying to make me understand Our first ever encounter on that night when I felt so lost, My world only recently imploded in unspectacular style. I was reaching for a life jacket on seas coated with frost, When I turned around to be so mesmerised by that smile. I now realise those berries have controlled my very fate, Metaphorically pulling the levers of my life’s existence. Like the moment we arranged together our very first date The road to Knitsley Mill putting up very little resistance. An Autumnal Stanhope day we happened upon that shop, Yes, Ye Olde Worlde type with all the fake art nouveau. Making way between signs reading Pay For If You Drop, I paid a Tenner for a tile with very little of value to show. The Berries Pied Piper then beckoned both of us forward, We took a not so gentle amble along the Waskerley Way, That walk bringing pleasure as we ploughed ever onward, In a hope of sharing much more than this one special day A blustery time we experienced on a day in summer June, By the dam down from the old reliable Parkhead Station. The winds chilling velocity had us retreating all too soon. ‘Water relief’ would give away far too much information Miscalculating I tried permanently to move into your life, But it was done only with the truest and honourable intent. And though it was mainly outsiders causing all our strife, I consider those efforts to be money well and truly spent. And so the Sun Dial moved to a holiday at a Centre Park, Those berries had not prepared me for all of the madness. A years efforts weighed heavily with consequences stark I just wanted both of us to get away from all the sadness The Easter of 2010 now seems like a most surreal illusion. We materialised on a farm attraction watching lambs skip. With families looking I felt my presence to be an intrusion Was no surprise our love was given its very first time slip. The Berries game can be cruel just when you least expect, In the three month hiatus I’d gained some self distinction. Receiving a call and hearing a drug only Love junkies inject, And once again I was overdosing on my oldest addiction And so onward as One surviving another Christmas just, Something deep down held us intact with a frailest bond A New Year in York felt just like it was Monte Carlo or Bust Where’s Sooty when he’s needed to wave his magic wand It was to a sunny Manchester by way of Keswick’s streets, The new Fab Four had recently reconfigured with Robbie, Those five days from The Lakes to Lancashire’s old beats, By a wide margin had to be our most recent favourite hobby. From there the Berries dealt their cards feely without care, Our Loving became so casual that it was almost sleeping. Yet something inside kept those old Mill Wheels in repair, Somehow managing to avoid corrosion that was creeping. A further splitting in our fragile join soon did come to pass, Yet more false dawns did haunt each and every sun rising. Knee jerk reactions were unwelcome as weeds in the grass. And any reconciliations just would never be so surprising One of those briefest of truces came in June two years ago, The Boss and the E Street played at the Stadium of Light. In the days heavy rain we watched a totally amazing show, Holding you in that tightest of embrace never felt so right. So another year and location for we were Holmfirth bound, Last Of The Summer Wine meadows with barley and hop, But Compo, Clegg & Foggy just simply couldn’t be found Dear old Nora Batty wasnt there to whack us with her mop, Now the clocks chimed for it is exactly 12 months gone by, In the darkness can anybody really see how deep the join. I am hearing those red berries give one great collective sigh, But our futures won’t be determined by the toss of a coin. Who knows where paths will lead in pursuit of our life’s fruit, The bond in our friendships strong and I believe so fervent, We walk together taking turns picking the least trodden route I feel somehow compelled that our next will be around Derwent... ................................................................................................... 2. THE DAY OF THE BERRIES As dawns mist succumbed to the sunlight’s warm rays, The reservoir water lapped serenely against the banks. How could it be that we had chosen today of all days, For venturing forth to inspect Mothers Natures ranks. I held your hand tightly as if it were for the first time, We were so free again without the world watching on. Trees gently swayed like some Marcel Marceau mime, Nervous squirrels appeared briefly and then were gone. Surreal moments as we strode seemed tangible and yet, The days minutes almost became endless in the extreme. Our Twilight Zone lead us to a place we couldn’t forget. But were we destined for a reality or just another dream. We happened upon that glade as if being led by a hand, And there before us were those deepest crimson jewels. In sleep visions I had seen them and tried to understand, What makes them stand out from the rest of those fools. Of course in my dreams those red berries were in fields, Yet these Orbs were hanging from the trees many hands. Layer upon layer did they surround you with their yields, Giving off an addiction that only the berry understands Then from out of nowhere the heavy rain began falling, Dark clouds sky rolled around like potential avalanches. Sneering insects had maybe missed a vocational calling, Berries hypnotically swung from ends of their branches Under the umbrella I held you being utmost protective, That image of those Scarlet Sphere’s indelibly printed. We viewed the pollen collectors being flower selective, As I thought of a future which was once so rose tinted. The Berries powerful water ally blocked our every turn, But for us to stand and fight we realised was just futile. Bringing back memories of a love we’d allowed to burn And the realisation that we had not gone that extra mile In an instant I was reminded of “The Quiet Man” scene, Maureen O’Hara held within that John Wayne embrace. Drenched to the skin as waters washed them both clean, Elemental forces of love inscribed upon each one’s face. Sheltering under some trees as water invaded our souls, The shell of a building laid derelict came into our view, In a field that resembled The Somme battle crater holes, Its outer hull had long forgotten what is was to be new. Now holding you ever closer as I felt your body tremble, I looked upon you staring straight into those sad eyes. The land now some moonscape it had started to resemble With a starkest horizon which reached far into the skies. Heavens above called a ceasefire as we gazed all around, A now cold grey land mass interspersed with that “Red” Any life that’d been here no longer seemed to be found, It appeared the very essence of the day was now dead. The view of Pow Hill now concealed in a shrouded haze, Metaphorically mimicking our once passionate division. A soaked pair of old sweethearts were now lost in a maze, Would history judge “their” time with impartial revision I offered to you my hand and onward together we walked, Berries surrounding us no matter which way we glanced, Their suffocating aura gave the sensation of being stalked, When discovering a water Spectre had us both entranced Standing quite still and within several yards of the bank, This shadowy ghost seemed to radiate a foreboding fear, Nervously we sped away along pathways wet and dank, Until finally finding ourselves far away and in the clear. Stopping to take a breath I noticed your tear welled eyes, That Spectre had mirrored an influence deep in our souls. A someone who’d controlled your wherefores and whys, A person who had poured oil onto already burning coals The sky began to lighten which gave way to some relief, And with it this hypnotic interlude was gradually lifted. Holding hands again as we exchanged looks of disbelief, Trying hard to make sense of the time which had drifted. Wildlife roared out again it’s cacophonous orchestration, The sun that had retreated once more gained it’s strength. Birds took to their flight in the heaviest of concentration, As late Summer shadows once more increased in length. We both once stood as one on the threshold of a new day, Now we looked out across the reservoirs rippling flow. The words once so plentiful now had nothing left to say, Not every seed planted will always germinate and grow I looked at your face for you were again merely a friend, Had our fondest hearts really left us many years behind. Was all the love we’d had a means of justifying some end, Or like the berries, were you just a figment of my mind? .......................................................................................... 3. THE GHOSTS OF THE BERRIES I looked once again deeply into the eyes of my Figment, For she was as real as the route on which we’d rambled. It seemed the Berries had taken the days colour pigment, Leaving it marooned in a state subdued and scrambled. A fatigue had overtaken us though we still had far to go, The head of the reservoir only just coming into our sight. With our limbs begging us not to carry on with the show, Both of us needed to be far away before the fall of night. While there was still some glow from the suns dying rays, And as my car was parked some distance beyond the hill. Telling her to remain there by several chestnuts and bays, I promised my returning before the onset of evening chill. I hadn’t gone far when more clouds began accumulating All air pressure dropped leaving the lungs breath frozen. The landscape appeared to melt as if digitally pixelating, Nervous wildlife scattering in some fear of being chosen. A deluge of rain suddenly broke away from its mooring, This time firing with an intensity far greater than before. Very soon realising that it was me I should be reassuring, I hurried away to avoid breaking old Mother Natures Law I turned around to look for you but you had disappeared, Echoing those many occasions when I needed you most. The Berries wanted more from me just like I had feared, Their Game returning as a periodical apparitional ghost. Those Reds had always made the poker game one-sided Forever dealing their cards from the bottom of the deck. The memories they dealt me with no one I had confided, I always folded leaving me a step away from total wreck The first of their cards placed me on a metaphorical fence, Hours of tactile visions were laid out for everyone to see, Remaining ever distant like dreams which made no sense. Stating a love on many levels that somehow set you free, Bit parts in a scene and we played our rolls with panache, The performances would’ve been lauded if ever viewed. But even great shows given poor reviews can soon crash, As a word in these lines can be twisted or misconstrued. Love it came and went as did all those fads with fashion, Just like the attraction that waned upon the many breezes. The wheel of Karma simply got in the way of our passion, Is it right allowing Love to simply appear when it pleases. The next card gave the feeling of walking upon egg shells, For I was now caught between a choice of Black and Red. Thinking of that conversation with the original Hells Bells, Jerry Garcia reminding us he’s not so Grateful being Dead Thoughts which you think and the dreams you’ve desired, The Berries continued to influence each move and feeling. All good intentions made seemed to have all but backfired, With defences in my heart breached from all of the reeling. Now was the wine glass half empty or that bottle half full, Do you know it really wasn’t possible to answer that truly. The playing cards I had been dealt me lined up for the cull, The Berries Joker being a past master of behaving unruly. Each card was a parable of former visions within my mind, When Happiness had decided to withdraw and down tools. Moments of such madness which had left both way behind Finding the Ass within Assume had made both of us fools. If the Berries were the Lay Preacher then I truly followed, Listening intently to each and every word of their sermon. But the bottomless chasm of a heart which they’d hollowed Could only be filled by a destiny that I couldn’t determine. I was caught in the wild maelstrom which I could only see, With the Four Suits in the deck who knows where it starts. A longing from deep within was shouting out to be set free. I so desired to be conscripted to the army of thirteen hearts. With just a hint of rebellion I arose from their gaming table, Folding cards and throwing them towards the Crimson tide. Once again I had been vanquished yet somehow I felt able, To confront the demons who’d always forced me to abide. I realised that the Berries would be around forever haunting, But I now understood that they were my souls darkest fears. The are the enemies in our mind which we find so daunting, They are those saddest of emotions which result in our tears. As if on automatic pilot I placed the keys in the car ignition, And drove along the side road to our agreed meeting place, You were stood there soaking from the clouds precipitation, Yet I now had no recognition of those features on your face. Within each of our existences lives the Ghosts of the Berries, Daily lives meandering doing endless meaningless chores. Mr and Mrs Everyman hide away from their constant worries, But one day those Berries will come knocking at their doors. ........................................................................................ 4. FROM THE ASHES.......REDEMPTION It’s now been several weeks since I threw in those cards, Finally taking my leave from the old Rowan gaming table. Casting the last of my chips at those wanton Red guards, Seeking a redemption that would make life again stable. All which I can remember when those clouds descended, Was that nothing had ever been returned which I’d lost. All the calls of empty voices saw me totally undefended, And was left here with an empty mind to pick up the cost. The ensuing days had me entrapped within some vortex, A paranoia of looking over my shoulder wouldn’t leave. Tense sensory perception ran through my cerebral cortex, Memories of the Reservoir just made me want to grieve. I tried so hard to hold onto a dream just as it disappeared, Constantly aching to be somewhere near the tender touch. As this Cowboy fell to the ground when his horse reared. I found the noise above our music had become too much. Every wave that hit our rocks was followed by yet more, With each shipwreck those Berries tolled their final bell. Lighthouse beams failed to reach the parts of the shore, So if our path ahead was obscured we just couldnt tell Defeating my Demons was never an option I could grasp, Lies from some people meant that I was caught so short. Their sincerity was flawed like some broken locket clasp And I wasn’t in any shape for the fake battles they fought. Coming to terms with that most surreal manic bi-polar day Moments frozen in time reflected in each mirror I viewed Those Crimson demons seemingly had nothing left to say, Yet I knew many roads ahead would be rocky and skewed. The end of that walk was the beginning of a new chapter, Just like the Twin Towers fall created a different precinct. The wild wind howled like the call of a pre-historic Raptor And I knew the love we’d had was most definitely extinct. Climbing into the passenger seat quite exhausted but still, Removing her soaking coat the figment made not a sound. The dam head car park area resembled a steaming hot grill, With a dewy mist hovering several feet above the ground. The drive home was not that easy as words weren’t spoken, Could two once true lovers just as quickly become strangers. Where was the passion that within both had once awoken, Were they now destined to be a pair of life’s Lone Rangers. I once truly gave the real me for the shortest period of time But instead of my heart feeling the warmth it simply froze. Anything consequential was neither memorable or sublime, And there from the bouquet fell the lonely Ghost of a Rose. When innocence which once flourished crumbles in tatters, And we witness lies by them who have betrayed our trust. In this century where it’s only celebrity status that matters, We find those we trusted are as good as buried in the dust The end of this story definitely isn’t the beginning of a tale, I was now once again resuming the title of unwanted suitor. Caught deep within the clutches of another storm force gale, The clouds silver lining was no more than cheapest pewter. I pulled up near the road end and from the car she alighted, The performing roll which I played never garnered me fame, Those audiences left the show and were far from delighted, As I awaited another call from my agent which never came. The days following that final drop off had me here and there, Face Book was given the hammer as were the bottles of vino. Any thoughts weren’t given credence disposed without care, The Sainsbury trolley again replenished for yet another beano. Freed of a many levelled love that never stopped at any floor, I so resigned myself to the mercy of that post Berries malaise. Wanting to open up but not able to find any keys to the door, I was on a motionless go slow with all my gears out of phase. Then from out of the blue came the Face Book friend request, A name familiar and yet unknown beyond a Leicester twang. Type written text permeated by double entendres said in jest, A re-awakening metaphorically exploded to life with a bang. I will be the first in admitting that I am so far from well read, My list just about stretches to Shipwrecked and Tom Sawyer. When the offer of a meeting sent thoughts racing in my head, And before long we sat together with a most Honest Lawyer. That first one of our encounters is something that I’ll treasure, The conversation went on spinning without ever getting dull. And times since then we’ve taken and given without measure, I only hope that our table is never anything but brimmed full. A relationship consummated but deliberately without a fanfare, A modicum of decorum observed by the players throughout. The taste touch and feeling made the long wait easier to bare, This time the Sublime moment negated the prospect of doubt. And so for this particular part of my life the bell has sounded The barman serving me these words is just about to call Time. Someone’s given me a reason again to feel totally grounded, I hope that she continues to give me reason to my life’s rhyme I do not know how long it will be the duration of our joining, There are many carriages being pulled on this runaway train. I only hope the Scarlet Pirates stay away with their purloining, As I won’t be returning to the Fields Of Red Berries ever again. THE END.......
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 19:42:32 +0000
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