Although 23 years have passed since I missed that telephone call, I never forgot the message left on the answering machine. The caller was one of the world’s most successful balladeers. Charlie Landsborough’s voice was unmistakable as he thanked me for the impact my poetry had on him.

Although he was unlikely to have remembered me, I first got to know Charlie when he was playing gigs at The Atlantic tavern on Liverpool’s Dock Road in the 1990s.

They were heady days; after my two poetry collections were published, I was presumed to be Britain and Ireland’s most popular contemporary poet. My two 2,000 print-run poetry collections had sold out within weeks which is unusual for the ‘poor man of the creative arts.’

I was pressing the flesh with TV and radio stars and was a regular on radio and television. These include Sir Ken Dodd, Britain’s most endearing singer and comedian and Ricky Tomlinson of The Royle Family television series. The Bishop of Liverpool Cathedral, BBC Radio Merseyside presenters and personalities. I was good friends with the legendary jazz blues guitarist Gary Potter and also Cy Tucker.

Before placing the phone down, I left a message thanking the balladeer and I left it at that. Afterwards, I regretted my failure to invite Charlie to put The Oldest Love Letter to music. I might also have suggested putting to music The Girl I Met in May, Ma Vourneen and My Darling Ma Vourneen (‘My Darling’ in Irish).

The Oldest Love Letter was published on YouTube and was enjoyed an impressive 8,400 times, a figure many household name singers don’t reach. Its three companion Michael Walsh poetry videos were enjoyed by a further 9,000 viewers.

It is likely that Charlie or any competent balladeer having put The Oldest Love Letter to music could have a hit on his hands. Why not, the world’s greatest ballads were created from poetry: It seemed to me that I was just one link in the chain short of success.

Many of the most successful songs of all time started life as poems. The war poem Lili Marlene penned by a teenage soldier after being put to music by Norbert Schultze and sung by Lale Andersen became the best-selling wartime ballad of all time. Unlike me, Donovan, the Glasgow poet was not just a poet but a songwriter with a voice to match who became famous for his poetry put to music.

Perhaps one day Charlie Landsborough or a similar balladeer will make his day and mine by putting to music The Oldest Love Letter.

THE OLDEST LOVE LETTER, Liverpool Poet Michael Walsh

THE OLDEST LOVE LETTER

It took a long time and a great deal of thought,
I couldn’t believe I had lost what I sought.
I should have forgotten, moved on and known better,
But I sat down and wrote her the oldest love letter.

It spanned many years – no, a lie I have told:
Perhaps it…. I’m vague or perhaps I am old.
But always remembered how sharp that I fell,
For her green eyes, her kisses, the thrill of her spell.

And so I am writing the oldest love letter,
Whilst hoping the years will be treating her better,
As sharp and in focus as memories of you,
I love you as then and you know that I do.

The oldest love letter is proud in defeat.
It mellows, (no anger)  …. just bitter and sweet.
A brooding nostalgia with wisdom to taste,
To soften the promise of young love laid waste.

Forgotten the hard words that brought us to anger,
The years pass much quicker, I dwell and I linger,
But you know why I’m writing this oldest love letter,
For youth was the lover who couldn’t forget her.

I am pinned to my cross by a memory old,
Haunted through life by a love that grew cold,
Recapturing moments when love reigned supreme.
But this oldest love letter rekindles my dream.

2 THE GIRL I MET IN MAY by Michael Walsh

THE GIRL I MET IN MAY

The gladness of my heart is wakeened,
By the colours of the day;
By the speckled cream of wavelets,
Rolling up the tide-washed bay,
Wash to gold the sands of morning,
Blending with the distant corn;
How the forests rise in splendour,
Paying homage to the dawn.

The gladness of my heart is wakened,
By the girl I met in May;
Willow poise her grace had beauty,
In her lime green décolleté.
Wash to gold my heart of mourning,
For a past so far away;
Colours of the spring will waken,
To the girl I met in May.

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