written for an exhibition local to me about the area in which i live. James “robber” Snooks was the last highway man hung in England and this poem is about the locals’ tale behind his last few hours. it is displayed at the art hub run by Annafunkyart.co.uk.
Today at #DVERSE we have been asked to write something about risk . in the las few days i have been looking at the building of the canal around where i live. i was impressed with the shear effort of the working men digging these out by hand using only pick and shovel ( the spadesl they used are called grafts hence the saying a hard days graft). The navvies (workers) risked their lives digging these out and lining them with a mix of clay and sand called puddle clay, which when keeped wet is water tight . it needed to be stomped un by many feet to drive out any air so i came up with this as i could imagine them singing in unison like sailors singing sea shanties while they stomped. .
Hello everyone! In my part of the world, autumn season is upon us. Leaves from our maple and birch trees turn riot with diferent hues of orange, yellow, rust and reds. If you are on the other side of the world, I hope that your season of rain or spring will bring forth new plants, […]