Excerpt for History Told In Verse by Caroline Doyle, available in its entirety at Smashwords

HISTORY
TOLD IN
VERSE



2012©Caroline Doyle


Published by Rainbow Publishing


Smashwords Edition




Aberfan


In nineteen sixty six disaster struck,

For this village had lost its luck,

One hundred and forty four were to die,

Extra time they could not buy.


The mud came sliding down the hill,

Covering wholly the village school,

One hundred and sixteen children died,

Their adulthood was denied.


Their parents would forever grieve,

As the rest of the country could not believe,

Of this villages devastation,

In the green hills of Gods creation.



Alexander Graham Bell


This man invented the telephone,

Which for him was like a bone,

Which he gnawed from day to day,

Until at last he got his way.


We owe him a deal of thanks,

Every business and the banks,

Everyone can stay in touch,

We must thank him very much.


We all now use this communication,

We can speak to every nation,

Whether at home or in the street,

To your mother, you now can speak.


We owe it all to this mans dreams,

Who knows how it might have been?

If this idea, had not been sprung,

To this man, who the phone begun.



Archaeology


What is it you want to find?

What is it that's on your wind?

In the field you start to dig,

In a hole that's not to big,

You are digging in the mud,

Whilst-cows around you chew the cud,

Your friend is there with an echo sounder,

Of this group he is the founder,

There is a building, he's been told,

And he knows it must be old,

Is it Roman, or is it Tudor,

Or is it something even ruder?

What you've got is a clean page,

As it could be any age,

Then with your trowel you hit a brick,

So carefully away the soil you flick,

Then you dig away some more,

Till you come across the floor,

Of tiny tiles, it is made,

Under the soil it did not fade,

The final day has come at last,

The days and months have gone so fast,

Now the time has come to reveal.

That what you've got is the real deal,

What you've got is a Roman fort,

Close to a place that was a port,

There for the public, on display,

The finds, there are a fine array,

All of this now in preservation,

For a time this was your occupation.



Avebury Stone Circle


In Avebury is an ancient henge,

Some say is better than Stonehenge,

For it is on a bigger site,

But it can't match Stonehenge's height,

Some say the stones do mark the graves,

Of Arthur’s knights, - who were so brave,

As they went out on the battle field,

Not an inch of space did they yield,

Others say it's for fertility,

And the rituals were done by the nobility,

But no-one can ever really suss,

What this ancient circle does.



Glastonbury


Glastonbury is a Holy site,

It has been a haven against the blight,

Once thought to be the home of Camelot,

So many legends has it got,

The Abbey here is way so old,

And some have even been so bold,

To say it’s the home of our Christianity,

And it is possible that it may be,

It is right that we preserve,

This mighty place that is the nerve,

To so many sects in our green land,

Many of which are now banned.



Janet Horne


Janet Horne was found guilty

Of being an evil witch

But she didn’t fight it

So it went without a hitch


At her place of execution

They built a mighty fire

Which was to become

This lady’s funeral pyre


Her name would be known

In British history

As the last to be killed for witchcraft

How unlucky could she be?



Pocahontas


Born the daughter of an Indian chief

Her people’s religion was her belief

But she converted to Christianity

When by the English she is taken into captivity


A colonist John Rolfe by name

Thought her captivity was a shame

So this pretty girl he did marry

And about it he didn't tarry


When they married war did cease

There was then eight years of peace

They were blessed with a boy

Who was brought up not to be coy


The family went to Britain

Where fame they all did gain

They even met the queen and king

And told the tales that they did bring


She would never see her home again

When of smallpox she died in pain

In Gravesend church she was interred

Then she was free just like a bird



Richard The Lionheart


Richard was young when his father died,

And to the throne he then was tied,

But to Jerusalem he did go,

For to join the crusader show,

So much money did he raise,


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