Posts tagged ‘Yorkshire’

September 18, 2019


by Jem Croucher

So I’m back up in West Yorkshire
God’s own country so they say
But my preference is for Sussex
which I prefer ‘most any day

Yes, here there are attractions
unique to Yorkshire and the north
But home’s still where the heart is
when one travels back and forth

So I’ll gladly come for business
or to visit for a while
But take me back to Sussex
as it always brings a smile

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November 23, 2016

Fourteen hours

by Jem Croucher


Five thirty in the morning
and I’m out and on my way
It is cold and pretty brittle
at this early time of day
On a train that’s bound for London
warm and cosy here inside
Though my journey takes me northward
to West Yorkshire there I ride

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November 21, 2016


by Jem Croucher


We brought a David Hockney print
and hung it on the wall
An early Christmas present
to be admired by one and all
It’s from a London retrospective
at the Royal Academy
to which just under four years past
we went, my wife and me

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February 5, 2016

The dichotomy of the old and new

by Jem Croucher


I’m pretty sure that this was not
the hill of nursery rhyme
when a certain grande old duke
decided now would be good time
to march ten thousand up and and down
but it’s nice to think ‘maybe’
that this was in fact the very hill
from that time in history

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November 11, 2015

Lights across the city

by Jem Croucher


Bright lights across the city
and me fifteen floors high
I have a perfect vista
‘Neath a dark and starless sky

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February 9, 2013

A Yorkshireman’s Review

by Harry

Posted for Driversoft.

Fifty shades of grey: A Yorkshire man’s review.

Now we’ve a moral tale to tell
Of Ana Steele, who plays
A college graduate and, well
A virgin in life’s ways

It ‘appens that ‘er best friend Kate
Through flu’s not up to much
So ‘er interview’s on Ana’s plate
One Christian Grey, as such

Our Mr Grey’s intrigued, it seems
‘Cos Ana’s struck ‘im silly
Whilst she looks in his eyes and dreams
“E’ll never like me – will ‘e?”.

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November 30, 2012


by Worldly Winds


My love affair with Yorkshire,

is strange to the extreme,

the rain comes down in stair rods,

as puddles turn to streams.

Flint faced buildings stand proud,

the natives just the same;

hard with a directness,

reflecting poverty’s pain.

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