ramblings and things

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City of Culture

The Humber  estuary, long, wide
Glowing silver shimmer in the dark
For the night flying bombing raids
A sure and obvious navigation mark
To guide them on their way
To their targets to the west,
And the industrial midlands.
No great navigation test.

On their way back home
Over the Northern Coastal town
Nestled on the Humber
Unused bombs would rain down
To burn, maim and waste
So our city was doubly blessed,
Taking raids aimed for itself
And the surplus from the west.

A Northern coastal city was raided
The announcer would say
Then carry on reading
The other news of the day.
And our city was ravaged,
Fired, vast areas laid bare,
An anonymous city that no one
Seemed to know was there.

Haphazardly rebuilt
Necessarily with haste
Replacing taste
Struggling and fighting
And I spite of it all still there
With, instead of a motorway
We got our bridge to nowhere.
That anonymous Northern coastal city
Nestled on the estuary, long and wide,
To all intent and purposes
Built on the river's wrong side,
Faces its river, a sleeping giant ready
And willing to expand and grow
To in time once again become a city
Whose name the whole world will know.

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City of Culture