In the valley of the Smallhope Burn,
and its tributary, the Alderdene,
lived a maiden all alone,
with a hope not too forlorn,
that one day people would come
to settle, and share her home.
Passers-by she cheerfully greets,
sets the table and fills the jugs.
They eat, drink, and rest awhile,
then leave with a happy smile.
She watches them come and go,
invites them to stay, but all say no.
The Romans came, tired and thirsty,
couldn’t resist her beauty and bounty.
They drank from her refreshing springs,
encamped in her luscious fields,
and promised to stay
for ever and a day.
The Romans gave her a name,
it was Longovicium.
She matured and rose to fame,
in the last millennium.
Despite her years she looks graceful and comely,
and her welcome is always warm and homely.
In Front Street she displays her elegant feature,
along the Durham Road she paints a lovely picture,
everywhere you look you see her beautiful nature,
It suffices to say, 'This is Lanchester'.
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Comments about this poem (Lanchester by Isam Hussain )
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