The Taming Of The Slu..

 

Twas Friday night, on the ninth of May.

Or as the yarns of old will say

About a man I hardly knew,

A wonderful chap, by the name of Slu!

My newfound friend, indeed, is he.

And a fair old poet as you will see

He writes of times from our hometowns past,

With incredible knowledge, so precise and vast,

With so much to offer from deep within,

He hardly knows where he should begin.

 

The town he speaks of with such pride,

Is where our forebears lived and died.

A small mining town, on West Cumberland’s coast,

With the finest iron ore the world could boast.

He supplies us with memories, sadness and mirth,

And to another fine poet, this town gave birth.

There is another that celebrated fame.

And Norman Nicholson was his name.

Two different poets, two different styles, but

Both have succeeded to make you all smile.

 

You’ve built up your following, your words run rife

You’ve given back something to community life.

Millomite’s are grateful, you should feel proud,

Your words like Norman’s stand out from the crowd.

Another true brother, a wordsmith at heart

Always a Millomite, ne’er to depart

And so, Slu Clarke you’ll do it again,

When another great work, flows from your pen!

Another great work from your soul will take flight,

For you are, a true child, of the haematite!

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