Jul 22 2017

Yearning by Alec Trivass

where the high tide wets the lonely shore,

i’ll ask you (from the strand line store

of jetsam from the ocean’s maw)

to open up the ocean’s door

and take me to the ocean’s floor.

while men above may ply their oar

the deep will quiet the ocean’s roar

and together we will explore

the mysteries, ’til i am sure

that i can well resist the lure

of mortal world. then i can cure

my troubled soul, and leave it pure,

so i can make this place my home

then i will tell you, if allowed,

of clear blue sky and fleecy cloud

of massing throng and surging crowd.

of countries big, and nations proud

who never kept their word, avowed,

to smaller ones to whom they owed

a helping hand to ease the load

of governance along the road.

and other lost ‘ideals’ as these

that grew and blew about the breeze

of world opinion. reason sees

religion as the worst disease

under this world’s sky-blue dome.

up above, the nations fight

for some are wrong and some are right,

but who knows which? that is our plight.

no peaceful sleep thru’ gentle night,

but troubled dreams with eye closed tight

against reality, and might

fights mite and flames alight

on countries, and blind the sight

of people who would vent their spite

on brothers, whether black or white,

or other nations, and delight

to hear of death. and so respite

from this dread is why i come

mother nature – how they fought her.

harried her and then they caught her;

enslaved her and sold and bought her!

thus i seek the ocean’s daughter,

just to hear your silent laughter

in the deep. be free from slaughter

and oppression without quarter.

where i can be your ardent courter

so serene, beneath the water.

we’ve rejected magna mater;

if she leaves, there is no ‘later’.

when the world’s a smoking crater,

i will call this world my own.

this fitful sleep, this curse of men

who’ve reached (too soon) threescore and ten,

is ended now. i dreamt again

of seeking bliss, escaping pain

swimming in the watery main.

awake at last i ascertain

day has brushed aside night’s curtain.

time to rise, of this i’m certain.

i breakfast with a madeleine

and coffee, then i take my pen;

record these dreams. i smile, and then

give thanks for family. amen!

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Jul 18 2017

An 18th Century Chester clockmaker (conclusuion)

The writer seeking an explanation for the two signatures on the clock other than that occasioned by the possible replacement of a part of the dial through wear or damage, sought the opinion of Mr.H. Kenyon of the Old Leche House. Mr.Kenyon reviewed the transitional period when the square face long clocks were gradually going out of fashion and the arched-top long clock coming into demand. In these circumstances it would be quite probable and practical that square dials already made would be used rather than discarded, in making a new clock.  From the appearance of the clock in question this explanation would appear to apply, for there is no detectable difference in the upper and lower portions of the dial which one would expect to find in a repair or replacement

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Jul 15 2017

An 18th Century Chester Clockmaker

In the Sheaf of 5th. March 1960, reference is made to the Wrench family as Chester clockmakers of the 17th. and 18th. centuries. Two bore the name of John and two of William, but there is now evidence of another clockmaker in the family, Robert Wrench. His name does not appear in the Baillie records.  There is, however, an 18th.century long clock bearing his signature in the possession of Dr.G.W. Phillips of Chester. This clock has the unusual feature of bearing also the signature of Robert Cawley, also a Chester clockmaker. The dial is of brass and in the centre of the arched top there is a raised medallion with scrollwork  and the signature of Robert Wrench, Chester engraved on it. The square portion of the dial is so fixed to the upper arched portion that but for the two signatures  it would appear to be a solid whole. At the base of the square portion is the signature, Robert Cawley, Chester.

Whereas the dates of the three members of the Cawley family named Robert, were 1743, 1781 and 1797, one cannot be certain as to which one was contemporary with Robert Wrench, nor of the latter’s exact  relationship to John wrench  who died in 1751. or to William Wrench who died in 1763.

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Jul 11 2017

Robert Fletcher, Chester Clock and Watch Maker

This information is taken from the Chester Courant 7th July 1789.

Robert Fletcher respectfully acquaints  his friends and the Public, that he has removed from his late shop, adjoining the Eastgate, to a more commodious one in Foregate Street, nearly opposite the Post Office, late in the holding of Mr. Wilcoxon, linen-draper, where he makes and sells on the lowest terms, Musical, Quarter and Spring Repeating Clocks, on the best and lowest principles-plain and common ditto in Mahogany and Oak cases, Chamber and Pocket Alarms, fancy timepieces in gilt and enamelled cases, Spring and Weight Jacks on well constructed Plans, neat Gold, Silver, Metal , Enamelled and Tortoise-Shell Watches, which he will sell on terms of worthy of notice to the public.

He is happy in this opportunity of expressing his grateful acknowledgements, to his friends for the favours conferred on him in his late shop to merit a continuance of which he earnestly assures them, shall be his utmost endeavour.

N.B. The Watch and Clock repairing Business, as usual, carefully and expeditiously  executed.

A  choice assortment of Birmingham and Sheffield hardwares,  japanned goods, umbrellas etc. which he will sell on reasonable terms. Gold Balances sold and repaired, Gold rings, Plate,  etc.

A well regulated club, for the easier purchase of Clocks and Watches.

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Jul 03 2017

LABOUR NOT

you labour too long on things that used to be

or on things that are.

go with the flow of life like a raft on a river.

go wherever it takes you.

if something interests you, by all means paddle to the bank and rest a while.

but there’s no resisting the flow.

allow yourself time for you.

be easy; you’ve earned it.

we all of us are amateurs at living, when we start,

and we formulate our bit of the world to our limited understanding of it.

we do whatever our consciences permit us to do.

some of us are evil, some of us are saints

but most of us fall in between, and do what we think is required of us.

we bridle when criticised by others, so why should we accept self-criticism

when we were trying our best? why should you?

relax and be easy.

i found myself cursing myself for being a tottering old bastard

because i fell over trying to put the second leg into my trousers.

i thought i was only fit for the scrap heap. then i remembered yesterday.

the day before i was asked to sort out my innumerable shirts and discard many.

i found myself examining them critically, and in many cases i thought: “there’s years of life left in that”, and tossed it on the ‘keep’ pile.

i hate throwing things out if they’re useful.

i looked at the face of antiquity staring out at me from the mirror, and thought:

“there’s years of life left in you, son.” i jumped on the ‘keep’ pile.

so – love yourself, john. love life and all it’s vagaries. remember only the good times, and smile – forget the rest.

accept your age and accompanying infirmities and live with it. above all give thanks for your blessings, and LIVE!

 

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Jul 02 2017

Words on Words

my eyes are aching

and i’m so tired

and yet i’m still trying to write poetry.

trying,with a choice few words,

to convey a whole world of meaning.

not merely to turn an empty carton of chocolates……

into flowery nothing.

does poetry arrive at my pen’s nib, spontaneously,

or is it worked on, and thought out,

in order to achieve perfection?

do i work from a store of poetic phrases housed

in a book? do they spring, full-blooded, from my intellect?

are they teased there from out into the harsh glare of shonal scrutiny

by the application of copious doses of jamaican wine?

the enigma must stay an enigma, for none

shall discern the inner workings of my mind until they

too  can conjure poetry of equal worth,

for then they shall have magic of their own

to spin the golden thread with which to weave

gilded words into the mysterious enchantment

of a truly estimable poem.

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Jun 30 2017

Home Life

home is a place that i come to each evening,

kids at the window and wife at the door

home is a place with a warm fire burning

for my returning each evening at four.

home is a place, just a house and a garden

but evenings and weekends i know i am king.

that’s when i have my family around me

and how i know home’s a wonderful thing

home is  a place that i leave in the morning

after my breakfast, and miss all the day,

’til i can come home again in the evening,

be with my wife and watch my children play.

home is a place that children grow up in,

where men become fathers and fathers are friends.

home is a place where wives become mothers,

where babies are born, and the journey’s end.

home, home, a castle, a palace

home, home, a hovel, a shack.

home, home, love without malice

home, home, welcomes me back.

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Jun 25 2017

MORNING MELANCHOLY

the morning air, still cold from night
brings sounds and smells. and cold grey light
lights up the fading pattern on the wall.
the household is awakening
to the rattle and clink of breakfast things,
for the milkman has made his call.
the milkman softly urged his horse
that pulled the drey with graceful force,
unbidden, his horse made the scheduled stops.
alas, familiar things don’t last
and soon become the quaint things of the past
replaced by supermarket shops.
AND WHERE’S THE ROMANCE IN THAT?

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Jun 21 2017

Tarporley Clockmaker(conclusion)

There is an early record of Tarporley  tradesmen in 1789 but it contains no record of watch and clockmakers. Nevertheless there are clocks inscribed Tarporley as place of origin in existence at about the time by William Rubottam(Liverpool 1790-6)and Thomas Read (Manchester 1790-18oo).One example by Rubottam indicates in its dial a moving ship-a possible connection with a port confirming its Liverpool influence. Another example by Thomas Read bears the inscription;

” Lo I stand, All in thy sight

to tell the hours of Day and night

Do thou a warning take from me

And serve thy God as I serve thee ”

Clocks were very likely made by local craftsmen -the early ones fairly plain in oak and later ones were more ornately veneered in mahogany and veneered in mahogany and adorned with brass mounts and spires

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Jun 18 2017

Tarporley Clockmaker

Watch and clockmakers trading in Tarporley have a long and fairly continuous history. It was, however the system in many places for the clocks to be ” bought in ” either complete, or in parts, for assembly and the name of the local trader added on the dial prior to its sale. As a result it was difficult to determine whether or not certain clocks were actually manufactured in the township. Tarporley stood in an area where clockmaking was a very important industry. Its close proximity to Manchester, Liverpool and Chester would indicate that clocks of good ” provincial ” quality were readily available, examples of which are still in existence bearing the name  Tarporley as town of origin

Mr.Peter N Pritchard is the present watchmaker and is a ” local ” boy, having served his apprenticeship and learned his craft with the former owners of the shop in the high Street, Messrs Dudfield and Gaynan. In the memory of many local inhabitants, we have Mr. J. Hall,  Mr Taylor(not a trained watchmaker ) and Mr. Joseph Rowley. In 1860 there were three traders, Messrs. Eyre, Humphreys and Maddox together with a Mr.Pickering in 1850.  In 1828 we had Richardson Halford

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