There is a quaint little town in North Yorkshire
Called Bempton. It’s right by the sea
It’s famous for its cliffs and wild birds
And this seemed quite attractive to me
So, I took myself off for a visit
Bought a ticket and got on the bus
Had myself a nice stroll on the cliff
Looked at birds, and didn’t cause a fuss
As I was buying some scones for my dinner
The local shopkeeper whispered to me
It’s a full moon tonight, just be careful
Bempton’s full of Werewolves you see
I went to look for a pub, and a drink
Not only to settle my nerves
But I wanted to see if her story was true
It really did sound quite absurd
I found one. Its sign was the Wolfs Head
A pentangle hung over the door
As I entered, I couldn’t help notice
There were scratch marks all over the floor
I went up to ask the Inn keeper
Who had a great whiskery jaw
His hands were huge, dark, and hairy.
His long fingernails, looked just like claws
Pray tell me good sir, could I have a pint?
And what is that pentangle for?
He gave me a look that said, careful
And his eyes they started to glow
It would be better for you, my young man
If you never should have to know
Now you go and sit at that table
You’re just in time for our show
I went and sat down at the table
But kept my eyes fixed on the door
It was then that I spied a dark beauty
A wild local, that was for sure
She came and she sat down beside me
And said, would you like to talk
It will be a full moon much later
Perhaps, we could go for a walk
I thought with some trepidation
That I might just give this one a miss
It was then that she pounced, out of nowhere
And gave me a wonderous kiss
I went for that walk in the moonlight
With that girl, who now is my wife
She may NOT be a werewolf from Bempton
But by God we’ve a wonderful life.
So, remember, if you visit Bempton
And you think you hear howls at the moon
It’s Karaoke on Sunday down the Wolfs Head
We’re there, singing along, out of tune
Of course, there’s no werewolves in Bempton
As a local I now know this to be right.
Although I arrived as a vegan
It is just a strange quirk of my life
That I now have a taste for raw meat off the bone
Wild camping, and running at night.
PJ.
© 2023
“Werewolves of Bempton” is a delightful and whimsical poem that takes readers on a journey to the quaint town of Bempton in North Yorkshire. The poem weaves a tale of a visitor who arrives in this seaside town, known for its cliffs and wild birds, only to be warned about the presence of werewolves. What follows is a charming narrative filled with local color, unexpected encounters, and a touch of the supernatural. The poet’s clever use of rhyme and rhythm creates a light-hearted atmosphere, even as it plays with the spooky concept of werewolves.
This poem is part of Peter J. Watson’s collection “Daftness and Other Afflictions,” a book that showcases the author’s wit, humor, and keen observation of life’s quirks. Watson’s poetry often blends the ordinary with the extraordinary, finding magic and mirth in everyday situations. His style is accessible and engaging, making his poems a joy to read for both poetry enthusiasts and casual readers alike. If you’re looking for a book that will make you smile, reflect, and perhaps see the world through a slightly different lens, “Daftness and Other Afflictions” is well worth exploring.
