See the silver curve of the sculpted tree
Feeling nesh as cold air settles round me
Children, excited, on a circular swing
Stare at graffiti: art that skateboards bring
Watch continuous, endless flights of geese
Smell the scents of an oatcake, of warmth and of cheese.
Sit and see the time that all this was not there.
Beneath lake, beneath water
Time hangs, falters
Amongst shadows of ancient chimneys
Rising in smoking air as pyramids of industry
See thick dust; honest footprints in honest work
Shine through darkness, through coal heaps, through murk
Fire in ovens
Loyalty to loved ones
Listen to us
The very soul of Stoke-on-Trent.