The valley burn
A spring emerges near the closed Westerton mine
The valley burn flows beside the old defunct line
Placed together betwixt hawthorn and gorse
Sharing the route on a parallel course
The brook veers from the abandoned way
The gushing stream has another role to play
Sustaining nature and her creatures
Becoming one of Spennymoor’s many features
The town has changed despite indifferent times
First, the iron works, then grim coalmines
From dark-stoned terraced houses to council estate
Through agonising eras, people created a trait.
The flowing water continues through
A town presenting the old and new
Sometimes slow, occasionally in flood
Into Cow Plantation, then Spring Wood
The River Wear envelops it through to the sea
An inspirational example with its long history
Patiently preserving and accepting fate
One can start small then become great.
Thomas Conlon, Spennymoor
My friend
I have a friend
I have known her for years
She’s thoughtful and generous
To me, she’s very dear.
She has a large garden
With some apple trees
And every year, in the autumn
She shares her apples with me.
She brings me three bagsful
Then I get busy
Boiling the apples and baking
Are we having apple pie and custard
Tonight, or stewed apple and cream?
(Dedicate to my good friend Maureen)
Emma Thomas, Darlington
The international brigade
Salute the men and women too,
Who fought on Spanish soil,
And paid a heavy price in blood,
the fascist’s plot to foil.
Because their eyes were open wide,
Could see no other way,
While others did not want to see,
And turned their eyes away.
And yet their message rings out still,
Their banner, though it be torn,
Yet flying, streams like thunder storm,
Against the evil wind.
One in four did not return,
They went of their free will,
And yet we never can repay,
The debt we owe them still.
A Holmes, Ferryhill
Reminder
I hate the coat that you left,
It won’t let me forget,
It keeps alive the regret,
Of the moments spent thinking of you.
Alison Carr, Bishop Auckland
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