Blackhill 1960’s

by: Paul Hunter (2015)

The last clip clop Of the horses hoof Echoes clear and sweet

As the rag mans cart Makes its way Down a rain drenched Bessemer Street.

The distant hum of rolling  cranes Drifts across the roads

With the rumble of the locos As they haul their heavy loads.

The old Salvation Army band, Played below the light,

On the corner by the barbers shop, On a crispy winters night.

A bright red glow lit up the sky Like a burst of hades flames

Over Roger street and Cort street, While the kids played back street games.

After six till two, Or two till ten, a hard shift in the plant,

Fathers sang and whistled  tunes, As they walked down Blackhill bank,

They’d slake their thirst in Blackhill Club, Or the Scotch Arms farther down,

Then a bag of chips at Parisi’s Then to the Rose and Crown.

Those childhood days have long gone by In a blur of misty haze,

But the memories, They will stay with me,

Of my Blackhill childhood days.