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Poetry Corner


by Steven P Taylor

Deep inside the Lancashire moors
One small village opens its doors
In the shadow of The Tower
A reminder of old Northern power
River flowing wide and fast
Tracking the industrial past
Converted mills and cobbled alley
Terraced housing lines the valley
Something here for every taste
Smiles on every vendors face
From early sunrise until dark
Poor drivers trying hard to park
Nightlife, fright life, yours to choose
Noisy disco or wine bar schmooze
In the morning, Market trading
Thoughts of last night now are fading
Fresh fish, flowers, cakes and pies
Every stall a great surprise.
Countless Delhi’s meats and cheese
Exotic produce there to please
Restaurants with every dish
Cantonese, vegan to chips and fish
Italian, Indian, Bangladesh
Turkish, Spanish anyone’s guess
Steam train bringing in the tourists
Car boot shoppers and Railway purists
Every Sunday comes alive
Thriving village nine to five
In the churchyard, poor old guy
With can of beer and tear in eye
Oblivious to the bustling town
Middle class affluence all around.
Check out antiques and local gallery
Should account for chunk of your salary
Festivals of music and chocolate and pies
Throwing black puddings will open your eyes
There’s nothing sleepy about this little place
It’s fun and it’s culture, but not in your face.
In all of the county the jewel in the crown
Is no curry house, it’s Ramsbottom town.



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