Erdington.

 
The high street bustles with shoppers,
a few shillings, a few coppers,
the light as a Van Gogh painting,
an old lady on the stone bench waiting.
 
Spaghetti Junction,
a job creation scheme for the future,
the centre of the motorway world,
a spring thrush is heard.
 
An Abbey of forgiveness
and the last of the asylum,
now town flats for the daughters of the sun,
love is not lost no less.
 
The unemployed and the disabled,
old and young,
of such is sung,
many dreams are fabled.
 
Did I kiss you on the green?
borrowing books from the Carnegie library,
the black cat walks across the table,
your new coat is patience and sable.
 
~