Feminism inclusion Poetry

The People’s Palace. A Cathedral by Muriel Baker

Reading Time: 1 minute

The People’s Palace. A Cathedral by Muriel Baker

A white wrought iron cathedral

a fantasy in glass and metal lace

housing giant tropical plants.

A palace for the people

from the viewing gallery

they appear as small as ants.

 

I have remembered dancing

in the city’s ballrooms

and a tale of ‘The Steamie Pram.’

The spires of the city

a ring around the green.

I can see everything –

from where I am.

 

The hills in the distance

the valley in between,

and Cleopatra’s Needle.

No, it’s Nelson’s on The Green

I can read a building size poster

Saying ‘People Make Glasgow.’

 

I pay homage to the ‘Single End’

I would swear there was once a dog

and a wee mouse in a trap.

My memory is in a fog.

The roach traps are real enough

These varifocals are the stuff.

 

I weep over Ken Currie’s paintings

The women’s Suffrage Banners.

Their teapot, cup and saucer.

They were brought up to have good manners.

 

The banner of the Camlachie Branch

of The Independent Labour Party.

The parish where I was born.

A long way to go from Maryhill

for my mother, on a snowy March morn.

 

Oh sisters what’s to come?

I remember going ‘Doon The Watter’

This place tells the story of my life.

From  ‘The Humblebums’ Banana feet

and the stuff that’s already gone.

What will be your heritage

Now that Socialism’s done?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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