I’ve tried my hand at a bit of poetry; you may not understand it, not being of the faith.
But have a look anyway and give me your comments.

The calling of St. Crispin. (http://sheffieldwriters.ath.cx/SFStoryArchive/1178239356.doc)

PS.I was in a rush, so sorry for typos.

Well, I've read this last post and wonder if anyone would pay a tanner for this load of cobblers.

Good on you for getting it out in the open and deciding not to hide it away. It helps to be thick-skinned.

I did'nt understand the meaning of it ,but i would like to know .As far as poetry goes i liked it .

I did'nt understand the meaning of it ,but i would like to know .As far as poetry goes i liked it .

Ok Scribes, I’ll decipher it for every one, but while I type it up have a listen to this, you must turn your speakers up full blast and stand on a chair.

http://www.americanrhetoric.com/MovieSpeeches/moviespeechhenryV.html

Now that is a quality speech.

As you probably know St Crispin is the patron saint of cobblers, I will not bore you with the details but you may look yourself…..
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crispin

Many years ago around 19 - mid 20th century those born with afflictions of the legs or back or contracted things like Polio or Rickets and could not find work in the factory or service (military or domestic) usually found work as a shoe repairer or cobbler and so comes the type cast stigma, and before you ask, the answer is No, my only affliction is being a member of the Sheffield Forum Writing Group.

Every year there is a trade fair and in my weird minds eye I get the visualization of old cobblers trudging along the highways and byways of England to reach the gathering.
Word definition….

With Charlie on Back = Hunch back.
Hock = Pawnbrokers.
Heel-a-matt Ltd , 45 Balf Street London, now nonexistent, was back in the 70s the HQ to most of the heelbars in Sheffield; Atkinsons, Pauldens and so on.
Healys = a trade warehouse, Robin and Tim their proprietors.
I think that should do it.

Hi Coyleys,
I realised the significance of St Crispin and my reply was designed to include references to leather workers:

last
tanner
cobblers.

hide
thick-skinned.

I wonder if anyone noticed?

How about clearing your pm box?

Im not into poetry normally. I dont have the kind of mind that can decypher it, but I quite liked that piece of work.
I actually enjoyed reading it and for verse, thats rare as far as Im concerned.

Lets have a few more please...?

Hi Coyleys,
I realised the significance of St Crispin and my reply was designed to include references to leather workers:

last
tanner
cobblers.

hide
thick-skinned.

I wonder if anyone noticed?

How about clearing your pm box?

Dont worry Hopman, I'm not thick skinned, just thick, I got your drift the first time, nothing like a good bit of leatherty, Oops! thats levity. :huh:

That is interesting coyleys .My great grand father was a cobbler and he owned two shops one on West Bar the other on Infirmary Rd ,he was a very successful businessman .As far as i know his only affliction was to become an alcoholic and ultimately it was his demise ,he lost his business and the property he owned on Figtree lane .

I've struggled with this poem from the first two lines.....
"On this the night of St Crispin, the calling can be heard.
The followers are summoned, with out a single word"

How can a calling be heard, and the followers summoned - without a single word being spoken? :huh:

"Sheffield" was really a half-rhyme with "sealed". Placed on the following line, it simply jarred. It would have been better used on an alternating line.

The metre was not consistent, the mysterious words left me wondering what the poem was all about?

Poetry is notoriously difficult to compose, and I admire the attempt. But, overall, this poem didn't work for me.

I've struggled with this poem from the first two lines.....
"On this the night of St Crispin, the calling can be heard.
The followers are summoned, with out a single word"

How can a calling be heard, and the followers summoned - without a single word being spoken? :huh:

"Sheffield" was really a half-rhyme with "sealed". Placed on the following line, it simply jarred. It would have been better used on an alternating line.

The metre was not consistent, the mysterious words left me wondering what the poem was all about?

Poetry is notoriously difficult to compose, and I admire the attempt. But, overall, this poem didn't work for me.

I did mention the word mystic, how does a pigeon find its way home? How were the death eaters summoned? It is supposed to have a mystic trait, so you have to have a bit of imagination.
I did write it solely for the trade, so you would probably not get the humour.
I’m sorry my poetry doesn’t work for you.:cry:

I liked it didnt I ?

I liked it didnt I ?

I love you Pattricia.
Your just so easy to please.