I wrote this poem when I heard of the story over 50 years ago it has stayed with me ever since

Whispering In The Wires by M.A.Meddings

On the high Shropshire moors beyond the towns of Knighton and Clun there is an ancient Ridgeway known as the Long Mynnd  (long mountain) The Post office ran the telegraph wires across the top of the hill.

The Shropshre Moors are the unsung last widerness of the UK and in summer time evenings you can lie in the long grass and listen to the wires 'singing' as they 'cut' the breeze. It is a lonesome sound. Legend has it that the sounds are the ghosts of soldiers killed in the first world war searching for their loved ones.


I did not die  
When you thought I did
Neither did I leave as you believed
1 was  not a figment of your imagination
I was real, In love
You were not deceived
I called on you in the lonely places of your heart

I was cold, I was heat 
I was passion, I was fire
But in the depths of your despair
It was not my ghost you heard last night 
It was just the lonesome West wind
Whispering in the wires

Poetry by lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 2092 times
Written on 2008-05-08 at 07:41

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Forever he is in our hearts for a lifetime,his poetry was uplifting,breathtaking and how his expressions for his love was
like a gentle stream:) lovely to keep is work alive!!!

kisses to you Lastroman!in heaven where u beam upon everyone who loved you!!


I got it.
Sometimes words come along like music to my ears, literally.
So this is now tuned.
Just gonna sit down with my guitar and complete it.
Well done, Mike, you romantic soulmate.

Wonderful, hero. One of your very best.
An absolute bookmark.

"I was cold, I was heat
I was passion, I was fire"

...Hey my hero I love this poetic words...you are soooo great!!!kisses

this is a cool and scary story here mike


Kathy Lockhart
this is hauntingly beautiful darling. Your introduction is so helpful in setting the scene for you wonderfully written poem. It has an eeriness yet it has a tenderness as well in the longing of a lost love. Fifty years ago, what a romantic young man you were and your gift for writing poetry was truly evident even then. I love this babyxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxyblyvm