Holesgrove * Ashforth * Hawley * Holmes * Kniveton *


A Crossley in-law journey from Wales to America! See Great great Uncle Wilson & Aunty Fanny (Josephs) Crossley in the Crossley Family History page. (Dec 2012)

Great great Grandmother Susan de Marchye - a surprising find! See the Kelland Family History page.

Recommended Blogs & Websites!

 A Little East - life in the countryside!

The Lives & Times of Bella, our Japanese Shiba Inu x Staffie

Letters Words & Lines - some short stories and poetry

Musings while in London 2007-2011

Photography by Megan

Kelland Photography Etc

Jenna-Lea's Bakes

August 2012: A little beyond the Street family-link boundary to a single mum in the 1840's, a 19 year olds fatal accident, and a young wife dies leaving a babe in arms. The Hitchcock connection under the Street Family History page.

June 2011:  Marriage, Birth & Death between the Census. Catherine Mary and her son John Joshua cannot be found as wife, mother or son on the census records. Read the story under the Street Family History!

June 2011: William Holesgrove's Will gives clarification on the family, and gives a bit of insight into his interests. See his story on the Holesgrove Family History page! 

April 2011 - New poems from Grandad Walter Ash: A Beautiful Princess (just in time for Royal Wedding weekend!); Verses on the Death of my Niece; and On the Sinking of the Titanic.

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Great Grandfather Albert Hawley wrote some 'lines' to the "Members of the Farley Hill Y.P.S.C.E." on February 9th 1897.

Grandad Walter Ash wrote a few poems on nature and his family. In April 2011 my brother scanned some pages of a book of poems Grandad had hand written.

My mother and father have both written poems and booklets.

My daughter Megan is studying creative writing and is writing stories and novels.

And after buying Megan a writing magazine, I started writing poems and short stories! So here are some of the families writings.

A Beautiful Princess - Walter Ash (from his hand-written note-book)

Willie dear, my sister said to me,

I'm tired of living on a farm, a Princess I will be.

I'll go to town and there I'll stay

And I shall be the Queen some day.

But Sis, that cannot be, I thoughtfully replied.

You've never been content since our poor mother died.

But if you go away like this and leave us - me and dad,

Though life is such a struggle now, things will then go bad.

So stay with us my Sissy dear and keep the home together,

Let's live the dear old country life

Through fine and rainy weather.

And be content with our small lot:

This quiet life and our humble cot.

Yes it's all right you telling me

Not to go there the sights to see.

A guest to be, nice robes to wear

And luxury with the queen to share.

But always here it is so quiet.

I wear this dress from morn to night.

New faces I can never see

And happy I shall never be.

But Sissy if you will but stay

I'll tell you of another way

How you can be a smart Princess

And wear so beautiful a dress.

I'll tell you how this cottage small

May be as grand as Marble Hall

And how this country-side may ring

With praise unsung by many a king.

You need not go into the city's crowd

To be a lady fine and proud

For God is here, the King of kings is He!

And you by loving Him a beautiful Princess may be!

And with kindly deeds to me and dad,

A helping hand to someone who is sad,

Joys that mount up far more than gold

Will be your lot with happiness untold.

Poor Sis she hung her head awhile

But presently she raised it with a smile

And said, Thanks Willie, I'm so glad

You made me think of you and dad.

 I'll swill the yard and feed the kine

And still I'll be a lady fine.

Dressed in a robe of righteousness

Indeed a Royal High Princess!

Great Grandfather Albert Hawley 1855 -1925

"Lines to the Members of the Farley Hill Y.P.S.C.E., by A. Hawley, Feb. 9th, 1897" 

A word to you my brother Christian, and my sister endeavourers too

One brief word of exhortation : Try and save just one or two.

There are men and there are women, there are young and there are old,

Going on to outer darkness to eternal woe untold.

Do not sit at ease in Zion while this multitude goes by,

Never thinking, never caring of the harvest by and by.

Rise and speak to my dear brother entering in at death's wide gate;

Rise and speak to your own sister, ere it be too late, too late.

Speak to them of Christ your Saviour, who, to redeem them from all sin,

Died on Calvary's rugged mountain, rose triumphant from the tomb.

So that when the Master calleth you and me to go up there,

We may not go empty handed, but with sheaves both sweet and fair.

We may gather round His footstool and receive the grand, "Well done!"

Come ye blessed of my Father, and sit down upon His throne.

You have toiled and laboured with me to redeem a world from sin,

Come, partake the joys of heaven, enter in, oh! enter in.

Grandad Walter Ash 1889 - 1973

"Letters to Marjorie when at Holmfirth, from her father"

(Written about 1937)

For once a woman has dried up, and has no more to say!

There's still some ink left, just a sup, and the pen still holds the sway.

Maybe there's things she'd tell you better if you yourself were here,

Instead of writing in a letter - her spellings bad, I fear.

So I must try and tell you how we're faring here at home,

How everything is going now until next time you come.

Well first of all there's Mother dear, she's just devoured her choc'.

I am sitting very near, but she's ate the blinking block!

Oh no! I've made a big mistake, she's just passed me a lump,

I thought she'd had the entire cake, but she's turned out a trump!

So much for Mother, now we'll see what we can say of Eve.

She's rather deep you know, and we never know what's up her sleeve.

But up to now she's all alone, and resting on the shelf,

And after her day's work is done, she (perhaps) goes out by herself.

And then there's Mabel, I'll take a care of her just what I say or

else she'll go off in a flare! (She cooked our dinner today.)

Now Raymond, young man, front rank, getting quite a manny bloke,

He buys Woodbines just for swank, "Oh no! He doesn't smoke!"

And Joe, now what of him to say, it nearly draws my tears.

It was dinner-time today before he'd washed his ears.

And now we come to Betty love, a baby still I fear,

For by the little stars above, she's spoilt, or very near.

She wanted me to clean her shoes on Sat'day, and I wouldn't.

You should have heard the boo-hoo-hoo's when I told her that I couldn't

Well that's the lot, I've used a sheet and just a bit I think.

So here's ta'ra until we meet next time with pen and ink.

P.S. Ar' forgot mesen' but never mind, I'll tell thee when Ar' see thee.

And p'raps till then, this ink and pen will show Ar'm not so seedy!


As Fragile as a Sunset

Twilight - the onset of night.

The daylight is fading.

The sun sets in a glory which silences our words,

holds our attention for a few fragile minutes

like an evening prayer

And then is gone.

It leaves behind that evening star

like a lonely lantern

Shining before a curtain of blue

with it's promise of

A new day to come.

A new day,

Still untouched

Yet just as fragile as the sunset.

Each moment to be filled

It's variety a wide expanse of colour

Making life something precious

to behold.

For life is fleeting

With each passing day.

It never returns

In quite the same way,

but brings forth a new sunrise

every moment has it's meaning.

It's glory,

If lived to the glory of God.

Walter Ash


The hilltop's aglow

with crimson snow

The lovely dawn

has made the morn

a thing of beauty

a joy to know.

The surge of life

Each day


Walter Ash


A leaf will fall

A tear will drop

Unseen by all

The leaf becomes the sod

The tear a sorrow past

And all is known to God.

Life and death, death and life,

God gives to all new breath.

Walter Ash +- 1937

Rose Kelland

Did you......?

Did you hear the blackbirds

sing sweetly in the breeze?

Or was it bird profanities

at breakfast's bread and cheese?

Did you hear the dove

cooing softly in the trees?

Or was it laryngitis

that maybe made him wheeze?

Did you see the squirrel

playing tag with baby brother?

Or was that p'raps the rebel

escaping from the mother?

Is all nature quite as perfect

as we make it out to be?

Or is it laughing back at us

taking the Mickey and liberties?

London, Autumn 2008

  Have you ever stood ....?

Have you ever stood

on a dark and cloudy night,

at the gate to a farmer's field

and watched the moon

play hide and seek

with Venus and Mars and Earth?

Have you ever stood

on a warm Autumn night

At a country farm's harvested field

and listened to the sounds

of silence and quiet

and drowned in the peaceful still air?

No traffic.

No voices,

No dog's howl, bark or whine.

No bats, no moths, no 'squitos or midges,

Just nothing

But the ringing in your ears.

Pennsylvania Farm, Bath, September 2009



Another man's world

The huge round sphere is nearing the end of his days.

His strength now spent and sapped.

His memory no longer as sharp and bright,

His power and use fades away.

He sometimes forgets to step out in the day,

And sometimes seems too weak to care.

His fans still welcome his faint hint of a smile -

The pessimist waves him goodbye.

And although it feels to us like he's dying,

It's only a game in the universe plan.

For he lives forever, as bright and as smiling

In another man's world

Another world's man.

London, December 2008

  Autumn in the north

It's Autumn in the North.

Nature is dying.

The Heaven's recede.

The skies are threadbare.

The sun plays an encore

and my brow feels

the gentle warmth

of the summer performance.

Rose Kelland, London, September 2008

Eternal Winter

The eternal winter gave up his spirit.

Succombed to higher blues and blinding rays.

A reluctant exit with gentle tears,

gloomy looks and grumbling blows.

London, 2010