Cheshire County Council Logo
|
A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z
 


Cheshire County Council
County Hall
Chester, Cheshire
CH1 1SF
Email: info@cheshire.gov.uk
www.cheshire.gov.uk
24 Hour Tel: 0845 11 333 11



Your 4 star Council
Your 4 star Council



Stockport

Main heading

Sub-heading

Nigel Astell

This a poem about a true ghost story that happened in Stockport Caves.

When the Light goes out

In the honeycombed maze of Stockport war time shelters
Local children would explore in the underground caves
Crunching on a path of splinted rotting wood
Inside the cut out sandstone rock where benches once stood
A man-made playground of tunnels for some became a treacherous trap.

"Make sure you don't go down those caves John"
"OK Mum I won't" - but did we take heed?
My two best mates Peter and David said, "let's go"
I said " I'm not sure lads"(knowing the danger of a good telling off)
Pete with a smiling face and a reassuring voice said
"Don't worry I've got a small battery torch!"

A cheerful faired hair girl softly spoke and asked
"Can I join your gang of brave strong explorers?”
Normally its boys only, girls get scared and cry!
So prepared and eager on a bold adventure we just replied
"All right but don't be a sissy and fall behind."

Discarded torn ration books of wandering ghosts
Discoloured chemical toilets, scratches of broken hearts.
Dirty damp mattresses lying on rusty unsafe metal beds.
Old rubber gas masks and dented tin helmets.
From the eerie caves a voice shouted "Blackout"
Then the torch packed up!

Pete and Dave stumbled into a solid rock obstacle
Trapped inside this warren of dark dungeons
Without torchlight anxiety grows.
In a calm quiet steady tone we heard
"I know which way to go"

Stunned and surprised that a girl was in charge
We followed her orders and got in a convoy behind
I hung on to her jumper and would not let go
Out of the blackness we emerged like escaped prisoners.

The earth crumpled away in the middle of a vegetable patch
We found ourselves in a back garden leading on to Hollywood Park
As we turned to thank our fearless leader
She had gone her mission complete.
To this day not one of us ever saw her again.

Nigel Astell

My poem, 'Plastic heads to match', describes the hatting industry for which Stockport is renowned, and was recently put on display at the Hatting Museum.

Plastic Heads to Match

Characterized personality inside lapel of name
Professional, hardworking and individual protector
Or fashion pretender in cult status war.
H is for heads that come in all shapes and sizes
A is for average, most human skulls are just rounded!
T is for trying to fit into big, large or small.
Smartly presented hats with different coloured costumes
Cultured classics of all the historical famous
Fingerprints are invisible presented in clear glass cases
Perfect in dimension sitting on made to measure faces
Display models with figures of the highest quality
Slim line and fat free diets not required.
Hats to fit both firmly and accurately on
Moulded silicon shapes of matching equality
Each bonnet, helmet and cloth cap sits so snug
Expertly fitted on the plastic heads to match
With no gusty wind to blow them off their perch
Spare a moment to visit - - -
Ye Old Hat Museum of Stockport town.


Peter Craven

The Blue Curtains

Sunny summer holidays when I was only small
Long walks through fields to a far off place
Granddad said was Cheadle Heath.
Out in the garden roses grow.
Sweet peas are trained
At 209 Edgeley Road.

Granny made plaice and tomato sandwiches
For breakfast. Ham salad, tinned fruit
And evaporated milk for tea
Dozens of relatives around the table
Or so it seemed
At 209 Edgeley Road.

Bookcases full of my uncle’s books
On poetry and art and other things above my head
In the night, the swish of buses
Some with trailers full of gas. The trams stopped
Just up the road
From 209 Edgeley Road.

Places to visit with strange names
Great Underbank, Tiviot Dale and Belle Vue
The zoo and the circus, then eating
Too many plums and being sick
On the tram going back
To 209 Edgeley Road.

Grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, the trams
Belle Vue Zoo, the fields at Cheadle Heath and evaporated milk
Are now just my fond memories
But my one remaining aunt still
Likes to drive slowly
By 209 Edgeley Road.

She likes to gaze at the blue curtains
Hanging in the front windows for many years
Since the family left and we wonder
Who lives there and what goes on now
Behind the curtains
At 209 Edgeley Road.

 
Small text size
|
Standard text size
|
Large text size
|
X-Large text size
Change Text Size

Listen to
this site
Listen to this site using ReadSpeaker

Translate this page

Printer friendly page Printer friendly



Contact: info@cheshire.gov.uk | Disclaimer | Copyright | Legal | Access Guide | Last Edited: 06-Dec-2007