The Big Kirk Hallam Poetry Competition
In 2022 Deb Wrekon launched a poetry competition for the sculpture. Here are our favourites entries; 

The winning poem; 

The Ground Remembers 
by Sarah Wilkinson

The skyline is different.

Now the valley is empty.

The canals murmur in their s9llness.

Then tall sandstone chimneys, ver9cal hoist,

Hungry furnaces, cylindrical gas holder,

And monstrous cinder heaps visible for miles.

Signposts: Stanton.

The powerhouse, locomo9ves, and trolley buses once brought

Light and life.

Then the furnaces were numbered fondly.

The Old Works and the New.

Barrows, shovels, ironstone, soda ash and calcining kilns.

Loud voices of the blast furnace men,

Coke ovens, molten iron in hot metal ladles:

Iron making.

Manufacturing.

Spun iron pipes, pig iron and cast-iron tunnel segments,

Shell and bomb casings, gun barrels,

Concrete pipes and air-raid shelter components.

Once a thriving community.

Dust and steam blowing with unpleasant smells.

Shunting wagons booming and clanging.

The roar of the blast.

Learning to swim in ‘hot waters’ and the ‘warm hole.’

An iron glow in the night sky.

Now people tell stories of Stanton’s bygone days.

Regeneration begins.

But the ground remembers.

The air reverberates - a whistle of the past.

 

Stanton Steelworks 

by By Rev’d Christine French

Stories not yet that old

Tell of men so brave and bold

Working day and night with molten metal

Spun into iron pipes and columns they would fettle

The grafting was hard in the raging fire

The demanding furnace, never was to expire

No man in such heat should ever work

Yet sweat, tears and blood on every shirt

Like ants, thousands came to work every day

For months and years they would stay

The grafting was hard and dangerous too

They built men in that furnace who would scare you

And generations grew up with the glowing skies

When the furnace roars, you wouldn’t believe your eyes

In the air the noise, and grit blew across the town

The pollution in the canals would make you frown


 A family atmosphere, as together were father, uncle and son

On the busy site, they had work to be done

Cinema, bowls club and canteen too

Doctors, and nurses on site to take care of you

And in the offices or canteen ladies there they would meet

A bit of banter, would want to sweep them off their feet

A shave, a new shirt, and never to be late

As a dance at the Coop was the best date

By bus, bike and foot, thousands came every day

For months and years they would stay

Not just drain covers and pipes were made

But the good friends and fond memories have stayed

Their work is done, now redundant, day after day

An amazing place to have worked they do say

For busier and happier times again they do pray

Sadly now too many of them in the churchyard do lay.

 SERVICE 

By Carol Bingham (Carol H) Who Worked in the canteen in 1976,
Aged 18.


We started at seven
The toast in the grill
The bacon smelt like heaven...
A supervisor worked the till
I loved to serve with a smile
As the workers choose their food...
They didn't have to wait a long while...
Whilst eating you could see a new mood
Breakfast over, we had leftovers 
Now for cleaning what looks like a tip
Dinner is now on the cookers
Waiting for the next shift workers
I am pleased to serve as they ate
Home cooked food and pudding 
Delicately dished on a plate 
Chatter, laughter sounds great..Hope to see you later mate.
 

©Copyright. All rights reserved.

We need your consent to load the translations

We use a third-party service to translate the website content that may collect data about your activity. Please review the details in the privacy policy and accept the service to view the translations.