All Posts By

Len Payne

Poetry

The Bonny Princes Legacy

Do you hear the drums a beating across the highland glen, as the Red Coats they are searching for the Bonny Prince's men. The lowland traitor Campbell rules in Edinburgh's Castle keep, while the widows and the children of slain highland warriors weep. The Macintosh and Fraser, McKinnon and Loch…
Len Payne
10th April 2009
Poetry

The Eternal Drummer

Do you hear the drums a beating From a far and distant shore, Do you hear the drums a beating Calling young men off to war, Do you hear the drums a beating Saying send me your very best, Do you hear the drums a beating As they lay them…
Len Payne
10th April 2009
Poetry

Certa Cito

Consider the poor Signalman, often the butt of jest, but on the square at Catterick he'd put a guardsman to the test, he has to be a marksman, clerk and driver too, you'll see him in a headset in crushed beret of navy blue, to climb a pole with speed…
Len Payne
10th April 2009
Poetry

The Queen’s Privateer

Stately Spanish galleon sailing so sublime, protected by her escorts, three deckers’ of the line, passing in false confidence on the Spanish Lake, for coming are the hunters, led by Francis Drake. The morning mists lay heavy when a voice calls from the shrouds, sail ho, sail ho to starboard,…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

Duty Done

A hundred different times he has stood upon the square, Dressed in Ceremonials, a Soldier beyond compare, He first put on the Uniform in the service of the realm, When Elizabeths’ father George, had held the nations helm. ¬ He took his part proudly in occasions of State, As they…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

The Last Run Ashore

'Wot you 'ome agin Son, when yer goin back, Blimey kid yer got it soft, not like me 'n uncle Jack, Wern't yer 'ome last Chrismis, just arter that convoy run, Life in the Andrews not the same, it's just a currant bun. 'Ave yer 'eard abaht the bomin, not…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

A New Beginning

A hush fell on the court where the Hanging Judge held sway, As he said with deliberation, this is your lucky day, The penalty prescribed for stealing another's bread, Is to be hung by the neck, till you are dead, dead, dead, But his Majesties pleasure I now invoke, And…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

The County Regiment

It's not the fabled Guardsman dressed in Scarlet and Black, Nor the dashing Lancer pictured leading the attack, The backbone of the Army, seen at Longstop, Ypres, and Ghent, Are the Yoemen of England, the County Regiment. Two hundred years of history, plus one hundred more, Are emblazoned on Battle…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

Another Summer’s Day

The villages and towns that dot the Channel coast, Were once the meeting place of two opposing hosts, Where now pleasure boats bob gently upon silvered waves, Good then met evil to set free Nazi slaves. Gentle waves lap softly upon the pristine shore, Where a scant life time ago…
Len Payne
9th April 2009
Poetry

Bless ‘em all

'ere 'oos that talkin in the ranks, shuddup yew 'orrib1e man, doncher 'no yer on p’rade, 'n git that grin orf yer b1eedin pan, an stop that b1eedin twi'chin, yew got St. Vitis dance, dress forwerd the fird man thare, wake hup, yew in a bleedin trance, c..e.... Stan still…
Len Payne
9th April 2009