Thursday 16 March 2017

Clouds Farm

Dorothy, who lived in Clouds farm


I was brought up
in Clouds Farm
Western Underwood
The last girl living
Nobody around for miles

Up in Clouds Farm
Western Underwood
Walked miles to school
4 miles
Up

In Clouds Farm
bread and jam or
bread and butter
Wouldn’t have both
In

Clouds Farm
Carrying a gas mask and
2 slices
Last girl living in the
West.



Ivy
New Mills

Beestings

A Bomber's Moon, quilt 


BANG!
POW camp
Masson Mill near us
young Germans working the quarry
"Those boys were lovely boys"
when they

capitulated
sold off as lamb, as swine
to be killed by the Slaughterman
salted and hung
nothing wasted on a pig
straight into the

pot
in chicken sheds
looking for goodness
of fresh eggs
the freshest milk
drawn off a cow

after it's calved is
Beestings
(you've probably never heard tell)
rich, dark, creamy
dawn, the milk float
churns chinking
you're lucky chum, you're alive.


Isobel, June, John, Doug
16 September 2014

Buxton


From the arthur+martha project Stitching the Wars. A two year collaboration with older people in Derbyshire, producing two embroidered quilts, a book, interviews and a series of poems. 
More poems found here. A short documentary film about the project found here.

Bombers moon

A bomber's moon, quilt photographed at NT's Lyme Park. Garry Lomas


























Quilt border poem 

a bomber's moon is
a full moon for seeing
you're tucked away, no messing about
feather bed in those days
goose feather, duck down
blanket an army coat
long bloody nights when it was cold
the moon's up, owls about
rats rattling in the long roof
under the slates, you can see stars in the gaps
brown paper under the sheets to soak up damp
sheep lice keep you warm, with your itching
the midwife arrives
my brother Harry, my sister Aletia
a horrible winter in 1929
looking after sick children we'd light a fire
boiling water when my son had the croup
stoke the fire up
water and salt, do your best
come Christmas pluck the goose, keep the feathers
lambing time January to May
watch out for the swallows
and the cuckoos too
in the quiet mornings
the swallows every year
fly 3000 miles to be with us here

open the door for them


Group poem
The Farming Life Centre


From the arthur+martha project Stitching the Wars. A two year collaboration with older people in Derbyshire, producing two embroidered quilts, a book, interviews and a series of poems. 
More poems found here. A short documentary film about the project found here.

Has my heart no rest

Detail of Fresh Air and Poverty, a quilt


Itinerant workers
Swallows in summer
Tramps walking between the wars
Mother was generous
& yet
Has my heart no rest?

Knocking on
One to another &;
Maggots add flavour
Mushrooming, breakfast found
Blackberries down the lane
O let my wish be crowned

Topping &; tailing
In a single bed, somebody's
Feet in your nose &
If one turns around
You all turn together.
No rest is to be found

Within my troubled breast.
Winter night, light up a storm
Workhouse to chapel, wave a lamp to
Warn them
In vain I look around
O Blessed love

Live off your wits &;
Beg a crust for lost souls
A cup of tea, or a curse if
They don't buy
Oh let my wish be crowned
Although I be unworthy.

Group poem

Nov 2015


From the arthur+martha project Stitching the Wars. A Two year collaboration with older people in Derbyshire, producing two embroidered quilts, a book, interviews and a series of poems. 
More poems found here. A short documentary film about the project found here.