Pennerley Bog Mines Shropshire

 
The laburnums flower
lilacs too in purple spendour
as when miners weary of the wind
the rain and snow,the five mile
walk to Minsterley  
just to catch a train to Salop.
Gave space to flowers sacrificing
the hostile soil where cabbages
and rhubarb should have grown
to feed too many hungry children
born of long dark nights in feather beds,
listening to storms on the rippling roof,
early mornings in the snow, school
but not before the cow was milked
and egg searches in the hedges.
Porridge thick bread smeared
with dripping, month old vest and knitted socks.
All that made our country greatwe ruled the waves.
Oh yes, we ruled the waves the lead and silver
made sure of that and coal in Staffordshire,
iron ore, Cornish tin and china clay;
when the lead was gone no thanks,
the master on the hill turned his back
no goodbyes to those who sailed to Argentine.
The children in the school, . . . . . .. . . .
where have they gone? some stayed behind
to till the toxic soil, pick lilac flowers
sweeter than lead and silver, long since gone
lost in swirling myth and dying dreams.
Red kites calling to the empty fields
lilac flowers, laburnum ,yellow gorse,
ancient scars healing with the heather..