Northern Lights
Undulating, Fascinating, flashing to and fro
Onwards, upwards, twinkling, tripping before you they go
They will lure you; never bore you, with the magical show
Teasing, pleasing, so endearing; up and down the proms they go
Light that flashes through the darkness
Colour palette gaudy and bright
Treasure trove of spun delight
Brash chart of incarnations
No limit to imaginations
Blackpool illuminations
The last night on the Proms
You're going out at midnight
You're final fling is here
Dressed in sparkling jewels
Take one last final bow
Before you're adoring crowds
Children's twinkling eyes reflect
Your glow for one last time
As you're brightness dims
When dark and cold return
We mourn you're passing
How bright you are in this black world
Those shining trails of fizzing lights
Flash before us for the picture show
Fusion of dancing colour
Trips beneath a velvet sky
We hold our breath in hope that
You will return next year
As the man we never see pulls the switch!
Marjorie Nye
21st of October 2005
There was a touch of magic in the light:
On that, our meeting that October night.
Our meeting at Solaris had a cause,
For there was one designer of the total feast:
This man whose child-like vision
Saw a world made lovely,
In purple Mirrorballs,
Its silvered lights breath-catching as we gazed,
And silently felt child-like and amazed.
There was a comforting and silly part,
Well-planned to lighten hearts and laughter start,
But stronger than the laughter and the glee,
There was a wondrous sight for us to see.
In one long, central corridor we stopped.
Above, a chain of silver hammocks dropped,
Or seemed about to fall as we all stood.
The countless, tiny light bulbs flickered, flared,K
And magic gripped our hearts, that lovely night.
Pictured forever in our memory's sight.
This was another vision to recall;
We take so much for granted, large and small,
But there are we saw the vastness of this plan
To fill the streets with lights through one brave man.
How many of us living in this town
Dismiss the effort, say, "lights up, lights down",
As if the task of making magic live
Were just a gift that anyone could give.
The moments I'll remember every year
Are those of visual beauty: all are dear;
And every year when lights are on again,
I shall recall that night's light in the rain.
Mary T Parry
Mirror-ball
The mirror-ball stands slim and tall,
Its body burnished steel
Its giant head is glass, instead
And circles like a wheel.
Throughout the day it holds its sway,
Its head held high in air.
They decided to hatch it where nothing would match it
And you wonder just why it is there.
But it drips moving light at dark of night
On the paving-stones below.
With your head down, it's easy to feel really queasy
And you find that your balance will go.
With spotlights glaring, their colours flaring,
It spangles its circular space.
The pixels reflected and rays re-directed
Send patterns all over the place.
But nearer the wall, where there's no light at all
So no pretty patterns are hurled,
It's a different picture; it's no aspidistra
But just the biggest light-ball in the world.
Keith Pexton
Touring the Tableaux
The trundling tram’s make-over was complete,
Battleship 736 it was re-named.
The crew peered from behind the toughened glass
To watch each tableau disappear from sight
As we in turn watched them sail down the line:
(Small chance she’ll alter course while we can see!)
But we had opted for a longer view.
We stood in wind and drizzle to re-live
Our nursery childhood-Alice, Old King Cole,
Miss Muffet, Little Pony, Teddy Bears.
The magic spell unbroken as we trod
The firm, bright-jewelled road to wonderland.
At Red Bank Road we stopped for fish and chips
Hot dogs and toffee-apples, and recalled
How back on our coast, a three hour trek
On droning melancholy motorway
More food-stall, entertainment, lights and noise
Beckoned our friends to part with well-earned cash
At Hull Fair’s mid-October jamboree.
Next year, Red or White rose, which will it be?
Hull Fair or Blackpool lights?
“We’ll have to see.”
Keith Pexton
The Vendor Right in the middle of the road she stood,
Taking her risk, to sell to both the queues
Of cars that slowed awhile for the collection
Her baubles bright "With built-in batteries"
"How much?"
"But you can only buy them here,
And only too at this time of the year!"
Her ear-rings twinkled blue and white and green,
The bright-lit head-band gaudy and aglow
And flashing things on sticks for eager hands
Of youngsters, who will show them off at home
As trophies of a winking wonderland
They visited, were spoiled, and fell asleep
On the way home, while Grandpa carefully
Switched off the electronic souvenir -
To save the bauble's built-in batteries.
Keith Pexton
Night Dancers A globe that comes to life at night
Diaphanous shafts of crystal hues
Shower shards of enchantment
Merging soft and delicate blues
Fusion of sparkle in a silver orb
Twinkle soft light over a sea so dark
Ripples of sunlight have been absorbed
Burst forth at night with a vibrant spark
What brings this brightness from the dark?
Shimmering over dancers in the night
Rays of rippling colour sprinkle
Makes the evening glow with light
Twirling twisting ray’s are shining
Illusions of pictures as shadows fall
Sparkling shining tall and wide
Our wonderful spinning Mirror Ball
Marjorie Nye
Surreal splendour in Elegant Street Suddenly the bus stop is full with impatient travellers.
A bus lane empty waiting for the last bus to arrive,
As the rain pours down unyielding wetness from a grey blanket,
Young people spill from the pubs in inebriated fervour.
The old theatre spills out its middle class,
Onto grey unforgiving streets
Men stare with hollow eyes from the doorways.
Ladies heels grind into cracked pavements.
Taxi drivers spin by the bus queue irreverently,
Speed past the graffiti walls of ancient buildings in ignorance.
The names of lovers or enemies shine on crumbling mortar.
Sweet rappers compete with empty cigarette packets blown in the gutter.
Suddenly the dull faces of the erstwhile travellers shine in a reflected glow.
Overhead droplets of crystal glass sprinkle delicate twinkling light,
Mix with the rain to encourage those who could be persuaded; to dance,
Under a cascade of chandeliers stretched and arching overhead.
Dreaming elegance of shining light brings forth another era.
The beauty of the crystal glow above works its magic.
Like welcome guests at the ball, the street now poised in anticipation.
Wonderment takes hold; and when the bus finally arrives the whole street
Is dancing together and somewhere an orchestra is playing.
Carried on a warm breeze the rain drifts away to the strains of the last waltz.
Marjorie Nye
Circle of Life
The circle of life reflected
From multi-faceted collective
Fragments of time passing by
Sparkles, dances prisms on high
Reflections of light like ribbons
Play the multi-coloured prisms
To emanate passion in life
Double edged like the blade of a knife.
By light the world will glow
Teeming with life high and low
Later darkness brings changes
Night reflected in strangeness.
As the vigilant mirror ball
Stays wide awake, observing
All with reflective eyes
Bouncing its secrets into the sky
Wendy Wood
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