A CHANCE request from his youngest daughter three years ago has launched a Ballingry man into a hobby which sees him see poem from almost every situation he comes across.
And during the coronavirus lockdown Peter Keicher has been penning poems on things he just comes across.
Said the joiner from Dunmore Place: "Three years ago my youngest daughter Gracie, who was seven at the time, was wondering why her brother and sister didn't want to see to play with her and asked me to write about it!
"I though oh, I haven't written a poem for over 30 years, what will I do?
"Well after quite a bit of thought I managed to put a wee story together and Gracie liked it and that was the start.
"Since then I have been writing about things I see and I suppose the total of poems I have written must be well over 100 now." He has had quite a few posted on the Benarty Matters Facebook page.
The 51 year-old's wife Theresa just lets him work away at his hobby himself and he admits that Hallowe'en and Christmas are his favourite times to write about.
He added: "I used to like the Spooky Walk held by the Benarty Fundraisers, at the Meedies, and I have put together a few poems based around spooky moments which have fired up my imagination.
"I am glad that my son Terry gave me a notebook and pencil for these days, when I am out and about, I am always looking at what is going on around me and I get the book out and make sure I don't miss anything.
"It is amazing how things start to flow looking at the notes."
Peter put together a book called 'Gracie's Little Adventures-Tights, Kites and Midgie Bites' and the village Community Shop took it to sell and around 200 were sold.
He added: "All my poems are the sort of things children will like to read but I find it good fun and when I think back, it is amazing that more than 30 years after giving up poetry I have been able to get things going again.
"It has been a sort of wee hidden talent that I forgot I had and I must say that during the lockdown there has been plenty of time for my imagination to get working!"
Indeed, to such an extent that he has written a book called 'The Haggaye' about a haggis who gets lost in London.
Peter has submitted it to a publisher and is waiting for their views.
"It is a fun story again aimed at the younger element and even if the publisher is not that keen, these days you can publish things yourself which I might yet do," he concluded.
He doesn't see himself as the Benarty Bard but some of his friends have aired views that he is doing just nicely at putting together poems about the area.
Scary Mary
Scary Mary walks the streets she wanders through the park
She haunts the lanes and alleyways especially when it`s dark.
She roams the primary school corridors by night and by day
She follows all the children she whispers come and play.
You’ll feel her cold breath on your neck her heart is filled with rage.
She`s reading every word with you as you turn the page.
Don’t go in the school toilets especially on your own
As the door creeks shuts behind you and Mary starts to moan,
She`ll chase you to your classroom although you’ve only heard her cry
And the teachers won’t believe you however hard you try.
You`ll only see her if she wants to, in her black cloak and black hood
Appearing in the distance as your walking in the wood.
As she makes her way towards you, she looks feeble and so old
And then she lifts her hood up, and she makes your blood run cold.
If you go out playing and you take a shortcut home
don’t go down unlit alleys where Mary`s sure to roam.
She`ll sometimes cast a shadow you`ll sometimes hear her cry
And then you`ll hear her foot steps as if she`s walking by.
But don’t turn around to see her or listen to her cry
And if she lifts her veil up don’t look into her eye.
For Mary had no children she once lived all alone
And now she looks for boys or girls to call her very own.
Her house is old the rooms are dark the walls and floors are bare
She has a secret room for you it`s hidden up the stair.
So run home fast and don’t look back and don’t let Mary catch you
Or she`ll take you to her haunted house and that`s where she will keep you.
Granny`s spooky house
My granny has a spooky house she has a spiders web
She keeps it in her room at night just above my bed.
I cannot take my eyes of it however hard I try
As it unwraps its prey from its shiny web and slowly eats a fly.
The spiders black and hairy with long and skinny legs
I’m sure when I fall asleep at night it crawls about my head.
She also has a cauldron it’s filled with poisonous gloop
But she says it`s for tomorrow as she’s making homemade soup.
I go to bed quite early but Granny stays up late
She`s downstairs eating fruitcake it`s like beasties on her plate.
Just as it turns midnight her cat comes to the room
It snuggles in the corner and sleeps on granny`s broom.
It` s coat is black and shiny its eyes are big and green
It`s claws are sharp and pointy the biggest that I've seen.
Then it starts to hiss and spit and getting up its hackles
And Granny starts to laugh at it just like a witches cackle.
Now she takes its collar of, it wears a silver bell
Then it falls asleep real quick just like she cast a spell.
My granny wears a pointed cap when she goes to bed
It looks just like a witches hat sitting on her head.
Her gown looks like a witches cloak when she hangs it up
And then she takes her teeth out and puts them in a cup.
And when the house is quiet and everyone`s asleep
The doors they start to crackle and the floors begin to creek.
The windows really draughty and the heating pipes are knocking
And the squeaky stairs out in the hall sounds just like someone talking.
There`s footsteps in the attic granny says it`s just a mouse
It`s really hard to sleep at night in granny`s spooky house.
But when I wake up in the morning and the sun is shining bright
I open up the curtains to let in all the light.
The cat is in the garden the spiders in its web
The doors don’t squeak and the floors don’t creek
And I`m snuggled up in bed.
Granny`s in the kitchen and I cannot hear the mouse
It`s in the attic sleeping in granny`s spooky house.
The witches finger
When night time falls on Halloween if you`re near the woods don’t linger
For if you stand to long this night you`ll feel the Witches finger.
It`s long and crooked with a pointy nail its skin is rough and grey
It comes alive on Halloween night but dead and black by day.
She wakens up but once a year from her cold and icy tomb
Then she sharpens up her nails and sits upon her broom.
She screams a deathly cackle as she adorns her Witches hat
Then summons from the depths of hell her big black evil cat.
It stretches and it yawns with its mouth so big and fat
Then gobbles up the cobwebs and the spiders from her hat.
With jagged teeth and razor claws and a pair of fiery eyes
It sits upon the Witches knee as they take towards the skies.
The crypt doors they burst open as her finger points the way
She`s hunting for some victims before the break of day.
She`s flying through the night sky with evil in her eye
She’s hunting for lost children as she passes by.
She needs to be replenished with her heart as dark as coal
She’ll put her finger on your chest and steal your mortal soul.
So when you’re trick or treating in your Halloween disguise
Don’t wander in the shadows where the witchy has her eyes.
Don’t go down dark or unlit lanes where children should not be
Stay in the light stay with your friends where you can clearly see.
But when a shadow falls across the moon and you hear the witches scream
Your legs are frozen to the spot and you pray it’s just a dream.
Her dark cloak flutters in the wind her broomstick whooshes by
She has rotten teeth a crooked hat and she only has one eye.
So hold on tight and run for the light and do not be a hinder
Because if she catches up with you you`ll feel the witches finger.
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