My Poem for Dad (Ken Beetham)

By Louise Hall


The following poem was written by Louise Hall in memory of her father and read by her at Ken’s funeral service on 30th January 2017

 

I know where I am going
When I close my eyes
Up through the heather
To the clearest of skies.

I need to get up there
I need to go now
My boots are there waiting
But I'm not sure how

My sanity is yearning
To be wrapped up in fresh-air
My life was ever precious
But I no longer care.

A purple blanket calls me
Bewitching in her wake
Wiry sheep are startled
They run towards the rake.

The little cabin sparkles
A brilliant brilliant white
Dancing on the heathpacks
Almost blinded by the light.

Groughs are trying to trick me
As I head into the cool
But my boots are squeaky comfy
For the mermaid magic pool
Tis' a favourite place, I sit and dream
As my battered kettle boils
Of languid ladies dipping tails
Reaching for the spoils.

I lift my pack and carry on
In the not too wetting rain
But the ground squirts every step
So I am cautious yet again....
The Peat bog is high
And darksome brooding brown
Its fawn froth bubbling
To cool the broth down
Tread carefully now, one is never sure
How grasping and meddling it is on the moor.

Now the Downfall mess is beckoning
With boulders tumbling falling
A journey that is ending now
And something else is calling.

Worry not - I have no fear
Listen to me - I'm happy here

And truly............................

I know where I am going
When I close my eyes,
Up through the heather
To the clearest of skies.