A poem from earlier in the year, reflecting that whilst we in the North may have had our historic differences, we have so much more in common than those down in the ‘south’ espoused by certain politicians.
Somewhere along the Pennine chain
beside the jumble of blackened stone wall,
a shifting line determines you’re a ‘lanky’ or a ‘tyke’,
whether you live within brick or stone,
support the red or the white,
which side you’re on in the cricket wars
But there’s another history you need to know,
of Northern folk coming together.
Chartist radicals fighting
for democratic reform, standing
atop Blackstone edge,
addressed by Ernest Jones in poetic form:
waved the wind on Blackstone height
A standard of the broad daylight
And sung that morn with trumpet might
A sounding song for liberty!
Now we are united again in echoes
of those chartist fears
whilst It’s alright for ‘them down south’,
up here it’s northern tiers.
On Blackstone Edge a wind is stirring,
injustice as clear as broad daylight
Lanky and Tyke sound a clarion call
Listen up you ‘Southern bastards’,
it’s liberty for all!Peter Kay