Warp And Weft Or Ode To The Loom
Poem by Asha Howe
Rhythmically pounding the cobblestone streets,
6.00am workers with clogs on their feet;
Determined their stride and determined their will
Another eight hours in the mill to fulfil.
The new age concerto of looms bang and clatter
Above which the voices endeavour to chatter.
With sweat on their brows, wearing aprons of black;
Broken threads by boys mended to make up the slack.
Now tired and weary, hair covered in fluff
Women don head scarves and men caps of cloth.
The hooter confirms it's the end of the day
Tired feet and clogs dusty, they now make their way.
Farewell noisy looms, shuttles, bobbins and all
We'll return in the morn when the 'knocker up' calls.
Stand tall you proud chimney and puff out your smoke
It's good that there's work for the ordin'ry bloke.
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