poverty and social deprivation

A Northern Suburb - by John Davidson

{ Poem }

Nature selects the longest way, And winds about in tortuous grooves;A thousand years the oaks decay; The wrinkled glacier hardly moves. But here the whetted fangs of change Daily devour the old demesne –The busy farm, the quiet grange, The wayside inn, the village green. In gaudy yellow brick and red, With rooting pipes, like creepers rank,The shoddy terraces o’erspread Meadow, […]

Thirty Bob a Week - by John Davidson

{ Poem }

I couldn’t touch a stop and turn a screw,And set the blooming world a-work for me,Like such as cut their teeth — I hope, like you —On the handle of a skeleton gold key;I cut mine on a leek, which I eat it every week:I’m a clerk at thirty bob as you can see. But […]

from- A Ballad of Heaven - by John Davidson

{ Poem }

He wrought at one great work for years;The world passed by with lofty look;Sometimes his eyes were dashed with tears;Sometimes his lips with laughter shook. His wife and child went clothed in rags,And in a windy garret starved;He trod his measure on the flags,And high on heaven his music carved. Wistful he grew but never […]

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