Tuesday, 10 January 2012

It's Called Progress


The spark to write this poem came as acknowledgement of the decline, in recent years, of the potteries of North Staffordshire, in particular those fine ceramics produced in Stoke on Trent.

It's Called Progress

Progress 
Fire up the enthusiasm
Mould the mind as it is not a blank one
Progress with work as you shape the cool clay.
Infuse effort and delicacy with high expectation
Glaze over the self-doubt.

To progress, aim high, I heard her say.
Be botanically bold and gorgeously original
Take a leaf from the Portmeirion book
And hope the soul is abstract –
Layers promote; exhibit
Progress.

Divide the surface pattern
And into schism throw, first, the tea-cup;
Progress further with the sugar bowl,
Come tile, earthenware, and other ceramic pieces
Credit has crunched in Staffordshire
It’s called Progress.

By Debra Hall

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