Saltaire At 13 O'clock Poem by Martin Ward

Saltaire at 13 o'clock

At 13 o'clock,
Each parent tells
Of things that happen;
Tales to tell:
When stone lions
Leave the Square
To quench their thirst
From the River Aire.
For Saltaire
Is a magic place,
Beside canal
And mill race.
Where once the sound
Of clattering looms,
Laughter, crying,
Sweeping brooms;
Of women cleaning
Steps and floors
To keep up with
The ones next door.
Strict regimes
Of church on Sunday,
Fish on Friday,
Wash day Monday.
Mum must work
At the Belfast Sink,
And Dad must walk to Bradford
If he wants to have a drink.
But all must sleep,
For the day ahead
Means long hours' work
To earn the daily bread.
So hush little child,
Do not awake,
For the stone lions
May decide to take
A drink and MEAL
Beside the water,
And eat a naughty
Son or daughter.
So dream of Sir Titus
Astride a stone beast,
Roaming around
The silent streets,
Until the half-light
When the Knocker-upper comes
To summon us
To the great mill's looms.