posted 11th September 2024
She was small by natures standards,
Natural in her bodily form,
Forever amiss amongst the stoney streets,
Of her small midland town.
Trapped between north and south,
The local sound came from a long dead town,
Crying for attention, the lingo was looking for a home,
Searching to be heard, looking for a natural turn.
She was loud as anyone can be,
The market stall was full of apples and tea,
A few carrots and a bag of peas,
She shouted out above the crowds, her people loving their lost sounds.
The day ended, nothing left to say,
A bus ride awaited, her town seemed a world away,
An hour later after bumps and groans, she was ready to come and play,
She'd always remember that soulful day.
The Horse & Hound was full of life,
She knew what everyone was like.
Grandpa sat next to the log fire,
Happy, happy, beers all around.
Snow filled the cold, crisp air,
Hand in hand, she walked home,
Grandpa guarded his young soul,
Homeward bound, the stew was already on the stove.
