Crossing the Pennines, rocky spine
Of the country running North South,
Following the motorway west
From the Humber Estuary Mouth
It always felt cloud bound whatever
The weather or the time of day
Stretching out on either side of
England’s highest motorway.
Saddleworth Moor, place of ill fame
It looks desolate and bare and bleak
And I felt uneasy as I criss crossed it
Each Monday every single week .
It’s a place of pain and torture
Murder, loss and despair
The victims being young children ,
Callously buried out there .
Their graves unmarked
On that unforgiving ground
At least one poor boy
Was never ever found.
The perpetrators taunted parents
By just refusing to tell,
Each enjoying their notoriety from
The safety of their prison cell.
Every Monday as I crossed it
I swear I felt pain and grief
And having crossed on return
Swear I felt a sense of relief.
That already dark bleak place
Earned a such a sinister fame.
Saddleworth Moor entered history
As a sinister and haunted name.
In memory as I crossed over,
And I know this can’t be right,
But it never ever seemed
To be bathed in sunlight.
Categories:
humber, dark, death, sad,
Form: Rhyme
Setting sun carved a path over the Humber
From Hessle right across the river bend
To join the banks at Ferriby Foreshore
Where that path came to its end.
The great smelter chimney
Rising there darkly up high
Sent its stream of carcinogenic smoke
Crawling across the reddening sky.
The resident old transvestite man,
Beach combing the bank for wood
Let the small boat he pulled drift so it
Crossed the path from where I stood.
To my rear the Bridge dominated
Striding the river from side to side
Then the longest in the world
With its span totalling a mile wide.
That strange mixture of past and present
Not there to be seen anymore
For the smelter was pulled down
And taken to pollute a foreign shore;
And the old man in his strange garb?
Not even sure if he’s still here.
I’ve not walked that old path
For far too many years.
But the bridge, now second biggest,
Still spans the waterway
Carrying the road’s traffic
Day after day after day.
A hush in the gathering darkness.
Fading to silence bird song.
And as the sun lowered to earth
My scarlet path was gone.
Categories:
humber, memory, river, sunset, water,
Form: Rhyme
By heck it was cold on the Humber ferry
The water was deep and Hull smelled like leather
May I mention the bridge it’s all there’s left
The boat man’s gone, it must be the Styx
Right it was cold on the Humber ferry
!ow I’m a widow from him who I married
His mother was Hilda his father was Harry
His father went fast but his mother did tarry
We could well have drowned her
If she had come on the ferry.
Categories:
humber, age, humor,
Form: Rhyme
Hull is the great and unique city where I was born
Sitting on the Humber estuary...proud and all alone
Known for keeping Charles I and his army out through courage and bravery
Also the birthplace of William Wilberforce who helped abolish slavery
The most bombed city outside of London during the 2nd World War
This made a strong community stronger even more
With a long and colourful history in shipbuilding, fishing and trading
The old image of Hull is still there ...but it's fading
The docks have been redesigned as shopping centre's or parks
It has an amazing aquarium that's got jellyfish, stingrays and sharks
The music and arts scene in Hull holds its own against the rest
The 2 mile bridge that spans the river is rated amongst the best
There's many green spaces to chill or restaurants to drink and dine in
It's now not unusual for Hull City or FC to score or even get a win
Hull has been rewarded with the City of Culture 2017
The redevelopment of this great city is very welcome but totally unforeseen
Categories:
humber, birth, city, culture, fishing,
Form: Rhyme