Violet Blumsom

Next up, an autobiographical poem by my great-grandmother Violet Blumsom, hope from another time, but inspiring for these times too. The gifts that our ancestors give us...

Coventry A Tribute

Coventry, I saw you die

Beneath a blazing, burning sky.

Your medieval buildings fell

The cobbled streets were hades, hell.

No water left to quench the fires

That raged around your three great spires.

And yet among the smoke and stench

There was a spirit nought could quench.

And so you lived to rise again,

To salvage jewels that remain.

Trinity Church, St Mary's Hall

Cathedral Tower that would not fall

But stands to guard the ruins yet

A prayer in stone we lest forget.

And Coventry held out her hands

To people from so many lands.

New Mosques and Temples merge with spires

Old faiths, new faiths, fresh hope inspires

The citizens who are all part

Of that strong beating valiant heart.