River Trent

by

Joyce Hemsley

In the very cold winter of 'forty seven',
The river Trent let Nottingham down;
waters strethed for many a mile,
flooding houses, and part of the town.

Drastic floods had come to haunt us
and plague our countryside;
worried citizens had lost their fight
to hold back the rising tide!

The river had reached its highest point,
poor animals were lost and deserted.
Lifeboats were manned to give people help;
scouts and volunteers were alerted.

Looking down from upper-floor windows,
rippling waters reflected the moon,
bringing a slight feeling of mystery
to relieve the depression and gloom.

At vital points along the Embankment
river width and depth were increased,
sluices and channels are now set in place,
so the worst of the flooding has ceased.

But in the middle of the year two thousand,
Britain was in the throes of a terrible flood,
The Trent was taking a back seat then, as
York and Gloucester were deep in the mud.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at I'm A Rhymer
by: Red Baron
from: Bangalore, Karnataka, India

To visit all of Joyce Hemsley's poems, click HERE

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