STUDENTS
They’re back again
So here we go
More noisy parties
As they put on a show
You can’t get parked
No room on the street
Complaints from everyone You meet
The pavements are packed
But they won’t give way
Consideration please We pray
You can’t complain
‘Cos no one cares
We cannot meddle
In their affairs
So we’ll count to ten
And try to cope
It could be better
This term, I hope.
BTL, Durham
REMEMBER
Our forces today are losing their lives
Just as they did long ago
Fighting a war in a faraway land
Trying to beat their foe.
As they fly away from their bases
Laughing and waving to families
Big smiles upon their faces.
What heartache their families have to bear
Each day that they are gone
Waiting, worrying, wondering
It just goes on and on.
Today, as we remember
Those brave souls lost to war
Utter a prayer that the powers that be
Will decide there will be no more.
Dot Young, Durham
VISITATION
Sometimes we are many
Sometimes only one
We observe, record and measure
And then we are gone,
We see your little world
We call it a minor sun
Remembering the ages
The good and evil you have done.
We witness your puny technology
And the negative effort that you give
We are far in advance of you
And thus name you primitive.
For you do not love one another
Or call your neighbour brother
The reason is quite simple
You are too busy killing each other.
We have, over time, examined you carefully
Scrutinised your human road
Listened to your faint radio signals
And cracked your genetic code.
You have a very long road to travel
To reach where we are
Whether you will ever make it
Depends on how much you risk and dare.
Sometimes we are many
Sometimes we are one
We observe, record and measure
Then swiftly we are gone.
Gordon B Bannister
GORE HILL
Within my lifetime
Gore Hill was a field
Confining cattle.
No people pined to populate
So pleasant a place,
None ventured to violate or vitiate
That peaceful pasture,
In after-years, ensealed
Beneath homes and highways
Of a council house estate.
Ken Orton, Ferryhill Station
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