People's Poetry North-East Derbyshire


Chesterfield’s my favourite place!

Historic market, a great space

To meet and greet and look around!

Busy stalls, a brilliant sound,

Chat and banter in the square.

Twisted spire, towers in the air,

Beloved and seen for miles!

Amusing reasons cause wry smiles

As to how it got that way!

The devil had a hand in it so they say!

Many tourists have taken the time

And braved the climb

Up our Crooked Spire,

Which never fails to inspire,

As they look out or down

Upon the busy streets of town!

Artisan goods on display,

Can be seen on a special Sunday!

Chap in tights, on one wheel bike.

Fun each year, what’s not to like?

Fairs, festivals, medieval fun.

Parks a-plenty for kids to play and run,

The best to honour Victoria the Queen,

Where County cricket can there be seen!

Tapton House Park, my old school,

Complete with fabled, ghostly ghoul.

George Stephenson was said to roam,

Mainly because it was his home!

Or perhaps it was a schoolboy joke!

In any case he’s an interesting ‘bloke’!

Remembered by his Memorial Hall

Withtheatre and museum, small.

Pomegranate Theatre, little and cute

Named after the Coat of Arms’ ancient fruit!

Plays and ballets, pantomimes too

A huge variety to entertain you.

Nolonger the Civicbut just as good.

If you haven’t been, then you should!

Local Museum, a look to the past

Reminds that time moves very fast,

Leaving memories in its wake!

Free ‘ Reflections ‘ yours to take,

Lots to study to make you smart,

Video, artefacts and Gallery of Art!

As a museum it’s got the lot !

But boring and stuffy, it is not!

Not to visit would be a shame

Take a look, you’ll be glad you came!

Our famous canal deserves a mention

A long walk there will ease your tension!

But save the bathing for your bath

By keeping to the safe tow path!

The football ground’s not far away.

Excitement’s heard each time they play!

When Saltergate finally closed its doors,

It was left to Proact to keep the scores!

Up the Spireites,! Up the Blues !

The Fans support them win or lose!

My rhymes are simple you’ll agree

But I hope they help someone to see

The love I have for my home town.

Never been? Well come on down!

Get the train or come by bus

Come in the car but don’t make a fuss!

For there’ll be a charge to park, for sure

But it’ll be worth it to explore A wonderful town, with much to see A place of such diversity!

I hope you love it just like me!

Christine Green

Chesterfield (again)

Chesterfield folk are stalwart men,

Do not challenge them, they never say when.

Derbyshire born, and Derbyshire bred,

They will not be driven, but, can be led.

By greats like the peerless Tony Benn,

All MPs voted him the best of them.

Our town is the home of many a son,

Like the master of steam, George Stephenson.

Our home is the gateway to the Peak,

If beautiful scenery is what you seek.

Peace and tranquillity await you there,

Leave troubles behind and have no care.

We lie in the centre of fair England.

The envy of many we understand.

Our spire may be crooked but we are straight,

Of that there can be no debate.

So, do not tarry, but wend your way,

To our fair town without delay.

Maurice Harrison.

The Tourist

I met her down on Clayton Street by the smell of the tanning hide,

We sat and talked and supped our ale in a pub called The Riverside.

She said she was a tourist and a stranger to our town,

She said that she knew no one and would like a look around.

So I took her to the Spire, then’t Market, the Crown and Cushion too,

Then Wetherspoons and The Welbeck and Yates’s to use the loo.

We called into Crooked Spire and then in Spa Lane Vaults,

We had a steak in the Soulville ‘house, the steak was nice and hot.

We had a pint in Habaneros and two in the one next door,

A quickie in the Old Blue Bell, where she tripped and fell onto floor.

We called into old Spread Eagle, she needed to adjust her hose,

And then we popped into Rutland so she could powder her nose.

We called in the Chesterfield Arms ‘cos the Labour Club was shut,

And then we walked back into town for a pint in the “Mucky Duck”.

She said she liked the real ale, and didn’t mind the grub, but asked,

“Is there anything else to see, 'cept loads ofReal Ale Pubs?”.

Shay Boyle

Chatsworth Road, Chesterfield

All the town’s a stage

and this road in its time plays many parts,

from a daily commute to a Stagecoach route,

a shopping street and a regular beat.

A starting point or well-known haunt,

familiar ground or only just found.

It’s one way in and one way out,

a postman’s lot but a breeze it’s not.

A satnav link to make you think

or a final straw to overawe.

It’s a getaway run, it’s tailback fun,

a vital artery and retail therapy,

a delivery patch or a final stretch.

It’s a swine to police and a happy release,

a gas guzzler’s friend, it’s journey’s end.

And here they come!

Cattle trucks and tractors

with livestock and stacked hay,

Tradesmen’s vans and caravans

caked with clods of countryside.

In season they are crowned with snow

or frosted windows slow to thaw.

Lorries here from far and near,

coaches carrying curious tourists.

Four by fours with trailers stuffed,

cavorting cars with bikes on the roof,

or suitcases and furniture,

or timber sticking through the top.

For patrol cars and paramedics,

ambulances, taxis,

fire engines, tankers,

hearses but not horses

this road is home from home.

Stuart Randall


Illustration of North-East Derbyshire by Emily Howells

© Copyright 2015 First Art.

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