BLUE MONDAY
THE BLACKSMITH
A sad reflection.
*
For hundreds of years
The Blacksmith was the backbone of village life.
His forge,
Fires blazing,
Hammers resounding,
Sparks flying,
Features in every country idyll.
*
Horses were his stock-in-trade.
But pots and pans
And little children warming hands
In the glow,
Added to his mystique.
*
Then came Mr Ford,
Mr T. Ford.
The Blacksmith
Died
Without a fuss.
Gone!
*
The occasional theme park celebrates him.
But he is a Dodo.
*
"Shipley Books."
Gone.
Closer investigation revealed a report
Which said
'We could not compete
With the Internet'
Or something like that.
*
Sad.
*
Another sad case here:
