Poetry of Pelsall

Why do I cringe when I see Pelsall called Walsall
When we who grew up there know it 'aint that at all
In the 30s and 40s it was all very clear
Pelsall was Pelsall with a history of it's own
And three miles away was Walsall the town.

Now Walsall was a town of some repute
Jerome K Jerome and fine leather to boot.
But Pelsall was a very different ilk
A small "Staffs" village with fields all around,
It's inheritance "the Common" the jewel in the crown.

Large houses and small looked onto the green
Together with shops to suit most needs.
Some being - Croxalls for grocery (outdoor at the side)
Asher Lycett for hardware - a B & Q of a kind,
Holroyds the chemist, Goods for shoes
Sanders for green and Boulton for news.

Two chapels, the Church, schools, doctors and pubs,
And for the children the Saturday Club
Held at the back of the Central Hall
Penny to get in, and a choc' teacake for all.

Transport briefly to a different time-
The silver screen with sound and mime.
Westerns, Chaplin, Keaton and Marx -
A mixture of tension and rollicking laughs.
And if came the time the projector broke down
There'd be hisses and boos and thumps on the ground.

Brownies, Guides, Scouts and Cubs
All played their part in our growing up,
Together with Sunday School (twice on the day)
A time for religion as well as play.

Now the Common was held in special regard
Given by Dame Dorothy Bridgeman to those who lived there.
"For Pelsall's children's children" was her edict
"Never to be built on - take care of it!"

No better guardian could there have been
Than"Lizzy" Wilkes - self appointed Queen.
She'd stalk around swathed in purple and grey
All of the Common under her survey.
And if she saw a demeanour which did not please
(Usually young boys climbing the trees),
She'd advance on them shouting "Boy, get down quick!"
And rap round their ankles with her stick.

Childhood pleasures knew no bounds
With a village, Common and fields around.
And as the seasons came - then went
Each on had it's own accent.

SPRING for
Gathering wild flowers, kingcups so proud
From an always damp patch by Station Road
Or a trip down Railswood for bluebells galore
But first a knock at the owners door.

SUMMER
The brook to dam, or fish to catch
Room on the common for ball and bat.
Or just lying beneath sun kissed skies
Watching birds and butterflies.

AUTUMN
Bought interests of another kind -
Kicking crisp leaves as they lay in piles
Juicy blackberries from up the Nest
Conkers from near - the very best.

WINTER
The Common (the jewel in the crown)
Frost glistening liver silver on trees and the ground,
Ashes put down on slippery streets,
Horses trod carefully in rag wrapped feet.

This is my heritage my childhood homeground,
None other like it - of it I was proud.
Not in those days part of Walsall's domain
Swallowing all for metropolitan gain.
It has it's own history - it's identity to retain -
So if Pelsall's children's children would serve it well
They'll make sure Pelsall (nr. Walsall) is given it's name.

About Celia Parkin

Celia Parkin (nee Neville) lived in Pelsall from infancy, moving from Church Road to Chapel Street and then to Allens Lane, Heath End, always close to her 'spiritual anchor' Pelsall Common. Along with her brother Reg Neville she attended the Church of England junior school where she became immersed in the activities of St. Michaels Church. This she remembers as being a very happy time of her life before attending Pelsall Secondary School which like many of us she felt was never quite the same.

Celia started writing poetry about 50 years ago, first for friends and relatives birthdays etc, then later to express her feelings about life and attitudes. Celia worked for 40 years in the Travel/Tourism industry in both Walsall and Wolverhampton she is now 81 years young and despite living close to the beautiful Cannock Chase, still fondly remembers her beloved Pelsall Common with its many moods and shades, free for all to enjoy.