The Beast Beneath The Beck

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The Beast Beneath The Beck


The beck at Westgate End is full of weeds,

its water is a muddy shade of brown,

confused ducks die within anaemic weeds

as sunken shopping trolleys pull them down.

Sometimes you hear a cold slithering splash,

as though some ancient creature has slid in

to feast upon the centuries of trash.

Who knows what evils are contained within?


It waits for drunken sops no one will miss -

staggering from the Redoubt To The Rock,

it lures with an intoxicating kiss

that leaves them in a state of wide eyed shock.

The beast beneath the Beck has taste for meat

and keeps unwary drunkards off the street.

fantasyShakespearean Sonetwakefield beckwstgate

◄ Windsor Street

ðə króz ləmɛ́nt ►


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Frances Macaulay Forde

Tue 22nd May 2018 04:27

Purpose, clarity, perfectly paced rhyme and rhythm, storytelling using an economy of words.
Very clever, Ian.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sun 20th May 2018 17:56

Jeez Louise! A sonnet, isn't it! And masterful. I am so impressed.

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Yvonne Ugarte

Sun 20th May 2018 17:41

Brilliant words as usual.

Your imagery is superb.

Only just joined this site today so was well chuffed to see your name on here.

How do I add a rose to say I liked it ?

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Brian Maryon

Sun 20th May 2018 15:18

If that's your local beauty spot Ian I'm staying down south where it ain't so grim!

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Martin Elder

Sun 20th May 2018 14:32

There are some marvellous lines here Ian which live up to your usual brilliant standard

confused ducks die within anaemic weeds

I think there is a place in most towns that host rivers running through them that have a place like you describe. I know that is certainly true of the river running through our town

fab poem

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