Square sets shroud the spinner’s yard,

A mournful tartan of the past;

Unlike the people; made to last,

From times when toil was long and hard.


It lived and yet it had no soul,

‘Neath the wheel and tread of foot;

‘Gainst iron rim and studded boot,

It faced all these and took its toll.


Assailants worn and then replaced,

All those afore and equine shoe;

Cobbler and Smith left to undo,

Ravages of granite cut and chased.


This timeless spread of stone now lies,

A record of all that’s gone before;

Echoes embedded for evermore,

Of wheels, the shods, the boots and cries.


Monty Alexander 15.1.05

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *