The Town Hall Dances.

The Walsall Town Hall dances
That pass-out stamp on your wrist,
Old fashioned waltz's and foxtrots,
Before Rock and Roll or the Twist.

To dance holding your partner
Glide graceful o'er the floor
Hold your partner so tightly
Guide her toward the bar door.

Music back then was so tuneful
More melodious it has to be said
Unlike today's cacophony,
So loud it could waken the dead.

Remember the Clover Leaf milk bar
Drink frothy coffee and chat
Discuss the latest fashions,
With Rosemary, Miriam and Pat.

Walk up the ancient market
See what bargains are there
Book in at Wheeley's in Bridge Street
Michael will look after your hair.

Bouffant styles, flared skirts
These fashions were all the rage
Boot lace ties, pointed shoes
So happy were those days.

I could reminisce for ever
Time passed by so fast
Just think as you read this
Is nostalgia a thing of the past?
                                                                                          
Written by 

Peter Wilkes.

Wisps Of Steam

The heels of my tired shoes clatter discordantly

On the newly flagged pavements

As I walk the streets that bred generations of chain makers.

Above, the clouds are grey and heavy

Like the leaden pall of smoke

That once engulfed the demolished terraced houses.

Little remains of the brick wall that surrounded the barren garden

And enfolded a crumbling chain shop

With soot-blackened hearths and blackbird nested chimneys.

A bellows, holed and discarded, rested by the wall,

While coiled in a corner lay a discarded snake skin

Of heavy russet and brown and grey links.

In my mind's eye I see the red-hot coals

And hear the clash of iron on iron.

I feel the cold embers crunch underfoot.

Involuntarily I flinch as death-dealing sparks fly by

And sizzle to their deaths in a bucket of oily, rainbow water.

A faint wisp of steam marks their passing.

I see vague figures through the mists of time,

Fathers and sons, brothers and cousins,

Standing beside each other,

All wearing be-grimed waistcoats and thick, protective aprons.

Their rolled shirtsleeves show thews

That could lift one, two and three-handed hammers.

Each long, gruelling day takes its toll

Leaving another indelible mark on their faces.

Sweat beads sparkle in the light of the burning coals

Like exquisite jewels scattered over a soiled landscape.

But in a flash the magic is gone, and grubby runnels

Are wiped by weary, calloused hands.

They stand before me, these men, bent and fatigued,

Old before their time,

But barely discernible and hidden by the fog of ignorance,

Are women and children,

Their tiny hammers making tiny chain,

The unexpectedness of it takes my breath away.

These are the men and women and children

Who helped to forge an Empire

Now, they're nameless and forgotten and I wonder:

Am I the only one to notice their wisps of steam?

Written by

Alison R Reed

Shoot out at the Assertiveness Corral

Chugger Chugger
Charity mugger
"Why don't you leave me alone?"
It's every day on every street
I'm really at my wit's end

Monday she was so polite and looked so desperate
I just couldn't say no.
And five minutes turned into 30
And I really had to go
But as Stanley Milgram will tell you
Once you say yes
You just can't say no.
I felt so angry after
I could punch the door!

So Tuesday I was prepared.
Not taking advantage of my good nature
I've had six damn begging phone calls
Since I was collared yesterday.
"No! Eff off you parasite!"
Well that told her good!
But then oh, oh dear
I did feel bad.
She's only doing her job poor thing.

Wednesday came and I had it all worked out
I'm cleverer than you, outwit you like Mr Fox
"I don't got no windows love, I live in a cave"
Aren't I a clever boy!?!
"Sorry can't stop
The cat's late for an exam
And the daughter's due at the vets to be spayed"
Oh dear think I got that last bit wrong
And I do feel guilty for being a sarky git.

Thursdays must be different!
No sarky, no nasty and definitely no door mat.
Calm down dear, it's only a flipping Chugger
The street was like the OK Corral on that fateful day
Doc Holliday Apartments,
The Earp Brothers chugging for NCPCC
But the steadiest hand wins the quick draw

Peeowwww! Ricochet from the right
I drew myself up to my full four foot six
And reached for my piece
"No thank you" with a smile
Said with certain panache I think
Bang! Right next to my ear this time
A near miss, I managed to duck to cover with a quick burst of
"Sorry, not interested"
It was all over in a flash.
It's such a shame they didn't have assertiveness classes back in 1881!

Written by
Al Daffern 

.

Passing

My name is Zero

I no longer belong here

Please, release me now.

Written by
Andrew Simon. 

Andrew Simon's poem is written in the form of a Haiku which is form of poetry originally made popular in Japan. 'Passing', the poet said, "is about a Spirit trapped in a leaf towards the end of autumn."

MAKING A DIFFERENCE

Whilst walking on the beach one day
Along the ocean shore
The old man saw a sight that he
Had never seen before:

Countless starfish swept upon
The golden sandy beach
Left lying dying in the sun
Just out of waters reach

And every wave that washed the shore
Then slowly crept back out
Left behind it many more
Starfish than there were before
Scattered all about

The old man thought oh what a shame
That they'll all surely die
But all the same I'm not to blame
And blissfully walked on by

As more and more were swept ashore
Far too many to save
Lying dying multiplying
With each and every wave

'Til not an inch of sand lay bare
So many there did lie
Starfish, starfish everywhere
Left on the beach to die

Then in the far off distance
A something he could see
That looked to be a small figure
Dancing down by the sea

Which when he walked on closer
In fact turned out to be
That it was a little girl
And he could see that she
Was throwing starfish one by one
Back into the sea

As he drew near he said my dear
"I mean you no offence
But there are far too many here
For you to make a difference

Because for each one that you save
The sea throws back scores more
With every wave to an early grave
Upon the ocean shore

Hence you can't make a difference
To the numbers overall
Which grow faster than you can throw
So why bother at all"?

She thought a while then with a smile
She knelt down on one knee
Picked up another starfish
Threw it in the sea
And said "I doubt it very much
If that one would agree"!

* * *

Written by 

Dee Howell

Dedicated to everyone who makes a difference.

Spare A Thought For Cleaners

Spare a thought for cleaners
As you go about your day.
We're the unsung heroes,
Who clean your mess away!
We empty all the rubbish,
And do our best to clean,
As we fly around the classrooms,
With a can of Mr Sheen!

The filth I clean in toilets,

Makes my stomach churn!

Why can't kids just flush it?

Will they ever learn? 

There's bogeys on the mirrors!

And wee all on the floor!

The smell is overwhelming,

As I clean it up once more!

We're often viewed as worthless 

As the lowest of the low!

Just come and work in my shoes,

And then you'd really know!

So spare a thought for cleaners,

As you go about your day,

You'd all be lost without us,

To clean your mess away!...

Written by
Elaine Taylor


One of a number of poems written by Elaine Taylor.

A Ramble In Walsall

Tired of sitting down
The thought of a little walk
In my mind was sown,
I walked loiteringly along the road
Then stopped by to watch
The carefree juvenile crowd.

Unsatisfied like a grazing horse
I casually continued on my course,
Towards the bridging wooden planks,
Glancing around as I go,
On the rubbishy clovered banks.

On reaching the bridge, I paused to muse
Looking down below
Where the much clear waters used to cruise.
Oh, what a pity, now only a small stream flow
on one side, trickling gently, down to the gully
Where the green trees bide.

I watched some children play
On the swampy bed
As well as others in their gardens far ahead.
But, as I look around on the green fields below
Something began to pull me
Yes, I must go.

In front of me
The landscape was so beautifully spanned
Scrutinising, you would think
It was designed by hand.
I took my stroll, oh so carefreely
Down the efflorescent hill
Infusing with beauty, my eyes,
As I stopped by
For them to fill.

I carried on walking on my carpet of green
Listening transportingly, to the little birds
As they tunefully scream.
But
What is this other soothing tone that I hear
It is indeed a lovely unfamiliar sound
Attracting my ear.

My curiosity got the better of me
And I plunged through the twiggy fence to see.
There it was
The balm that was drawing
Those feet of mine
To give my mind some calming.


I stood by the stream for nearly an hour
Passionately absorbing the pleasantries
Of nature's healing power,
On my mind it had some marvellous effects
That wending, crawling stream
As down its course it ejects.

It was a haven there
For nature had banished my care,
She used the stereophonic sounds
Of waters lapping on each ledge
And the melodies of the dazzling birds
Springing from hedge to hedge.

My pleasure was only marred
By some empty cans and crapey clothes
That slimly scarred,
My miniature river bed
And my nearby pastel meadow-spread.

Nevertheless I walked away from my bliss
Feeling contented; by knowing this,
That although my scenery was slightly afflict'd
I did enjoy my Maker's gift.



I sauntered back to church
Over the dandelioned and primrosed field of grass
Determined to keep in my head
The experience I had just passed.

I sat in my pew
Thanked my Creator
And hoped that we would take care
Of this wonderful world we share.

Clifton L Pinnock

Pasty, Chips, Flower, Sun - of You

Pasty

Biddy Biddy

Budweiser

Bit of Barcardi

That's the way we

Like to party

Chips

Mercedes likes chips

Mercedes likes shops

Mercedes likes chip shops.

Flower, Sun - of You 

When the flowers grow

And the sun shines

All of this reminds me of you

Written by Dom (26), Daisy (25) and Mercedes (7)

A poem written especially for the site by father (Pasty), mother (Flower, Sun - of You) and 7 year old Mercedes (Chips).  

As I Wait

As I wait for the end of play,
I see trees and flowers.
As I wait for it to rain,
There are heavy showers.
As i wait for the sun to rise,
It nearly burned my beautiful eyes!

As I wait for Halloween,
There are vampires at night,
You never know if they're at your front door,
And if you open it they...BITE!

As I wait for the werewolves to howl.
At 12am in the dark,
Along came a vampire hunter,
And got eaten by a werewolf called Lark!

As I wait for Saturday,
I go see my Mum,
I played and played and played
And I had lots of fun.
As I wait for Mum to call.
"It's time to go!"
I hugged her really tight and wouldn't let her go!

Written by
Elisha Slater

Miss Slater is 9 years old and loves reading and writing stories and poetry.

Home

A place of change
A place I grew
A place that challenged what I thought I knew

How was I so blind
That I couldn't see
The need to call time
Smell coffee for me

And so the storm broke
Hell hath, no joke
Dark, scary. Have I done right?
No question about it. Look at the light

At the end of the tunnel
Quite a way off
But there none the less
Beyond the big mess

And so time wore on
And on and on
With things pulled down
Crushed and broken

Time to rebuild
With a different design
Not dismissing the past
Just getting it right this time

A life in two parts?
One not ending before the other starts
Bringing lessons learned
Into a life so yearned

A change of place

 
A change of pace
More time and space
To save my face

Finding myself
In better health
Well, getting there
With not so many cares

Comments from others
The love of my mother
Hidden, forgiven
No longer forbidden

A chance to think
Less time with drink
So much more fun
When you're with the one

A time of life
A life of time
A home become
Called Walsall

Written by 

Mark Bassett 

Spring Is Here!

Spring is here, green, beautiful fresh!
As leaves shoot forth, entwine and mesh.

 
The lambs in the fields we see,
Skipping alongside their mothers, carefree! 

 
New birth and innocence abound,
As everywhere love is to be found. 

 
The love that is there for all,
If only they would heed the call. 

 
Yet the city folk remain unmoved,
For them it is as yet to be proved. 

 
Though how will they ever learn,
When to be outside, do they not this yearn? 

 
It is within ourselves, we hold the key,
To how to let our animals run free,
Whilst providing food for you and me! 

 
Our turquoise seas become grey with the oil,
This beautiful world some seek to spoil! 

 
Yet there are those who deeply care,   

Who play their part here and there. 

 
We need for more of us to join together,
To make a difference wherever. 

 
It is only those who appreciate,
Who can save this world before too late! 

 
So when we with our brothers and sisters unite,
This whole world with hope we can ignite. 

Written by
Catherine Gorvin        

In Answer To A Fretful Master

(The " Dull Boy's " reply)

I would I lived in mellow lotus-land,
Where I might always dream in listless ease,
Nor e'er be roused, O Master, by thy voice
From depths of velvet slumber, to mundane
Consideration of inanities.
Why should you fret and fume the hours away
Because my brain refuses to receive
Facts, vulgar facts, to dissipate its peace ?
Why force me to lift up a mournful voice
In protest, breaking on my calm repose.
Your futile satire cease ; and learn of me,
For I have found the secret of the Gods :
"Absence of Care by absence of Desire
Alone is won." The dullness you deplore
Is my Nirvana, sleepy Paradise.

Anonymous



Written by a pupil of Queen Mary's Grammer School and originally published in 1920.

Light

LIGHT
Refracts the brilliance of Cartier
LIGHT
Reflects the bright shades of a bow on a dull day
LIGHT
Recites the clearness of today
Retrospect of the darkness that hindered the Way

LIGHT
Shining bright through a windowpane
Reveals the dirt, the grime, the stain
That seeing through our naked eye can't see
Yet LIGHT'S luminous beam brings liberty.

I once was blind but now I see
The LIGHT that stands in front of me
I cannot help but bow the knee
To pure and radiant Majesty

LIGHT
Refracts the brilliance of Cartier
LIGHT
Reflects the bright shades of a bow on a dull day
LIGHT
Recites the clearness of today
Retrospect of the darkness that hindered the Way

Written by
Natalie Ivanova

You See The Horizon Collide With The Sun

You see the horizon collide with the sun,
They make contact, soon to be one,
It is unknown to you, that it is already gone,
Just a light created illusion, 3 miles away,
Has been left to stay, for you to admire,
In the last few moments of day.

The darkness is a distant rest,
A happy ending, to a light filled day,
A beautiful beginning is soon to come,
The next day, when the sun has returned.

Written by
Oscar Roszczenko

Our Deepest Thoughts

Consider this
What would life be without the sun and moon and stars?

Consider this
What would life be without love holding us together?

Consider this
Where would we be without the world that we live in?

Written by
Ermine Campbell

The Cattle

Are coming down the track
across the field to the canal

slow and sure-footed
swaying bony backs
the hoof's hollow thump
on the hard ground

huge-flanked
heavy-uddered

and the sky above
with its thin drift of cloud
its curve of blue heat
where a swallow's wing
cleaves a heron in two

they are here to drink
where the brick-work is broken
and the water pools
across the low bank

bending their huge heads
with a soft wet snorting
dipping their mouths
to suck and to slosh

lifting their muzzles
dripping strings of light

as their eyes take us in
brought here to their moment

so slenderly attached
to their earthy world
so lightly borne
on its rooty surface

as human eyes may once have glimpsed angels

but these are the angels of this world
and their gentle breath blown
is their praisesong to its maker.

Written by 

David Calcutt

Light Gives You Hope

Light gives you hope,
But some people can't cope.
They need that spark,
That will light up the dark.
They need that love,
That will help them live.

Light can leave you hollow,
Make you wish there's no tomorrow.
Light starts and ends each life
Just like the moon starts and ends each night.

Light,
It comes and goes
It stops and flows
It sparks and shines
It hurts and cries
It brings you joy
But rips your heart

Light, starts and ends each life. 

Written by

Paulina Kisiecka

Prize winning poetry written in 2015 by young poet, Paulina Kisiecka.

Hallucination

She wakes up in the middle of the night,
What she sees gives her a fright,

Two hands sat on her bed,
With no body or a head.

She jumps in the air and screams,
This is not one of her average dreams.

In the midst of confusion
She realises it was just an illusion,

She closes her eyes and falls to sleep,
Not realising the body’s underneath.

Written by
Yasmin Fatima

Dad

Sometimes I think I am forgetting your face
and then I remember your smile.
Five years is a long time to miss you,
but I'll see you in a while.

I never did have to say goodbye
co's you never really went way,
You are my muse and inspiration,
You're here with me every day.

You were a champion at your sport,
the sport of Crown Green Bowls,
it gave you much more pleasure
than a footballer scoring goals.

You worked hard and never moaned;
you showed us how to be,
and it is because of you that you were here
and now you're a part of me.

Your loving daughter, Angela.

Written by 

Angela Garratt 

Daisy Life

Those who feel isolated and rejected,
Like a daisy labelled as 'weed'.
Remember your petals shine bright.
Your life ready to succeed.

Growing through cracks
in the most unlikely place.
Persistent and determined
a tough road you may face.

You will be cut down and pushed back,
but don't listen to others you are yourself.
Always be who you are!
Don't be the book left on the bookshelf.

Who says you can't reach the stars
or take hold of your own fate.
Don't let others control you.
Do not rush you can wait.

You are precious some thing that holds hope,
where small girls make jewellery of white.
Chains, rings and more hoping to be royal.
Let your dreams take flight.

You are not the unwanted flower,
existing in this cruel world.
Don't just grow through the cracks.
Let your petals unfurl.

Written by
Josey Durrant