The Chimney Pot

 The chimney pot,so fine
could grace an Edwardian terrace
cream wash of yesteryear,
no cracks that I can see,
proud above the stack of bricks
still straight, well almost !
The clay taken where now we fish
dug and burnt, chalk white mortar
holding up the wrinkling wall.
Who clambered up a ladder
to crown the chimney stack ?
I do not know, shall never know,
but I know why....it was pride
that lifted up that heavy pot...
a humble hovel damp and cold
fit only for a charcoal burner,
deserved to have its day
and smoke at evening light.