Happy Black Country Day


Happy Black Country Day, and what better way than to celebrate than with a poem about my home town of Walsall which is a proud part of this great region.


My Roots are Showing

Air cushioned souls
descend a cobbled hill.
Worn stones with tarmac patches
wind past a church that
casts a shadow
over a town built before it,
But now living in it.

A town built on
lime and leather,
saddles and soot,
an arboretum and an art gallery,
Highgate mild and pork scratchings.
Foundations built to last.

A town where we’re not scared
to roll up our denim sleeves
to show our tattooed hearts.
A town I joyfully bounce through
pen in one hand, pasty in another
trying to capture its soul

4 thoughts on “Happy Black Country Day

  1. The Death Of Two Fine Trees

    The trees stood tall in stature
    Like a Cathedral on the lawn.
    For many years they stood there
    For as long as I’ve been born.

    The rain came down that fatal Morning,
    Like tears from heaven above.
    Stood there in beautiful innocence.
    The home of Owl and Dove.

    Woodman, woodman spare that tree
    Touch not a single bough !
    In youth it did comfort me,
    I should protect it now.

    They came with saws and shredders,
    To execute their dreadful act
    Within two days they had done it,
    Sawn for logs and stacked.

    The stumps still show the spot,
    Where once stood two fine trees,
    Grotesque the sight that shows the sin
    Marked by two sad amputees.

    The World is sad without them
    The atrocity has been done,
    No more the soft quiet rustle,
    Of the leaves in gentle sun..

    The rain came down like tears,
    From the heavens above,
    In homage for those lovely trees
    That I for one did love.


    Liked by 1 person

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