Best Whitby Poems

I wonder if your children rise at night
And haunt the shadows with your name
I wonder if memory would take flight
Were you now as then the...

Read more of this work...

The moon reflected on the sea,
A night more beautiful than day.
I wheezed and struggled up the steps
And looked out over Whitby Bay.

I saw the harbour...

Read more of this work...

The embers glow mysteriously as the breezes pass
In Whitby where the terraced houses fell on mass
Two new friends sit and chat about the devastating storms
And...

Read more of this work...

I puffed and panted up the steps (and thought
about the novel Dracula, in which
the character called Mina ran up there)
and gasping, wheezing crawled towards the...

Read more of this work...

Colour me perfect in green white and gold, 
A tricolour heart from the young to the old,
A land of giants from the causeway to swift,
A...

Read more of this work...

Johnny was a Whitby boy, well tattooed with attitude 
Johnny used to play the blue guitar 
Lived off Prospect Hill, his family they live there...

Read more of this work...

High winds - stirring sea - surf pounds - Whitby beach

Storm clouds - residual - seagulls - frantic cry

Midnight - a figure - in view...

Read more of this work...

 Count  Dracula a haunting figure, through centuries alike
desending on Whitby,an eerly thought, also a shuddering fright
between my hometown Middlesbrough, and the seaside port
the...

Read more of this work...

My husband is naughty a very naughty man
He throws down the newspaper on top of his beer can
He buys himself a sandwich in a cardboard...

Read more of this work...

Whitby is a great little town 
Nearby Scarborough is too noisy by far
Here at Whitby. you can sit around
On the beach dreaming of castles afar

To...

Read more of this work...

I remember all the humorous things   we did
Peering into windows lit by lamps
Climbing cliffs  then chased by geese and dog

Walking down ...

Read more of this work...

The end of the Pier was shrouded in mist
the Shadows we cast were defining,
We plighted our troth, and then we kissed, 
Neath a full orbed...

Read more of this work...

Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones...

Read more of this work...

GOTH GIRL


Sitting beside two Goth girls;
Black hair, black clothes,
Black eyelashes,
silver studs in the knee-length boots,
pale daughters-of-Dracula complexions.

I could be in Whitby for a Goth convention,
standing...

Read more of this work...

whitby jet
    monkey puzzle tree
    ebony

    4/ 28/ 2018...

Read more of this work...