historical (Remove filter)
Come Work In Our Factories
Long hours spent toiling the land, his family had done for generations.
Living in tune with the seasons, never thinking of other occupations.
Farmers his father and grandfather before him had been, what else to be?
Of his sons he was proud, he said “one day you will take over from me”.
Come work in our factories, leave your village, leave your land.
Come work in our factories, ...
Saturday 10th July 2021 7:56 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
2 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
9 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
11 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
12 hours ago