On black slates and cobblestones
The sooty rain falls,
And the long rows of terraces
With stark red brick walls,
The rivers in gutters flow
It's still pouring down,
With smoke from the chimney tops
Above this old town.
The grey skies bring misery
There's nowhere to turn,
Light shines through window panes
As coal fires burn,
The bleak streets and empty yards
Where no children play,
There's nothing to smile about
So dull is the day.
The chains on the factory gates
No work can be found,
Hopes fell so long ago
On this solemn ground,
On black slates and cobblestones
The sooty rain falls,
And the long rows of terraces
With stark red brick walls.
I don't know what it is about your poetry Andrew, but when I read it, it somehow feels familiar to me, like a long lost piece of work that I had previously treasured, now found Love duncan X
A lovely poem going full circle. Rhythmic reading and a wonderful storyline. Imagery all captured here in all its bleakness. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Very nice writing, again. 10 again from me. I wrote a new one, 'Walk Into A Castle' and others. I search for yours...thank you...keep writing and publishing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i'be been reading through some of your works lately and you certainly have a way with words. it's nice to see someone who can rhyme while still making it sound smooth and effortless. this poem stuck out to me though and i love it...great stuff. ben