From tiny beginnings to oceans I discovered the world in words

Shelton Bar

   The pithead wheel turns, up from the shaft

   come men and boy miners blackened with soot.


   Tunnels of darkness, tiredness and sweat

   iron ore and coal by explosive and pick.


   Over the railway line engines and trucks

   rattle along with monotonous rhythm.


   Blast furnaces smoking, glow red in the darkness

   choking black smoke cuts out sun and fresh air.


   Sparks fly from the forge, hammering anvils sing out,

   while slag heaps run silver with hot molten waste,


   from steel works and foundry along the canal side

   filth, dust and dirt, till the work is all spent.


   Gone the industrial age now land devastation,

   reclaimed for a festival fit for the Queen.


   Italianate temples reach clear to the sky

   by sculpture reflecting the natural world.


   People in cable cars suspended on steel,

   look on water ‘scaped gardens designed in Japan.


   Clematis trimmed arbours to flower filled marquee’s,

   a spectrum of colour, a rainbow of light.


   Scenic trains circle with summer dressed tourists

   and picnics in baskets to lawns edged by flowers,


   where wandering musicians serenade ice cream eaters

   as they wait for the evening firework display.


   Landscape of Shelton Bar, now retail and leisure park

where miners and foundry men’s ancestors spend.


       Elaine Morris  (c)  2014


Comments on: "Shelton Bar" (2)

  1. Not been in touch for a while Elaine. Just dropped by and was very impressed by this piece. Have you ever read any Norman Nicholson? I think you might like some of his poems about Millom in Cumbria

  2. WOW love the poem . very impressive telling us the story of Shelton Bar

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