Poetry

Bala Town

In Bala town where waters gleam, Llyn Tegid sighs beneath the dream Of Snowdon’s shoulders, brown and green, Where ancient stone and whispers lean. The railway hums a steady tune, Through valleys draped

Alloy

In the furnace’s hush, two metals meet, Their atoms dance, a quiet feat. Copper sings with zinc’s bright hue, Brass is born, a warm sunshine through. Steel embraces carbon’s kiss, Strength is forged

Crystal Palace

Crystal Palace In Hyde Park’s green, a glittering dome, A palace born of iron and glass, Where sunbeams dance on panes of foam, And Victorian hopes amass. The Great Exhibition’s shining hall, A crystal

Ards

On the quiet fringe of County Down, Where sea‑kissed cliffs and heather crown, Lies the Ards, a gentle sigh of land, Where gulls carve silver threads through sand. The lighthouse watches, steadfast,

Accrington Stanley

In the heart of Lancashire’s green, Where cotton towns and memories lean, Accrington Stanley wear the red, A badge of pride on threads well‑bred. From humble grounds of old Crown Ground, Their echoes ripple, proud

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