< PreviousYou can see the sky in North Lincolnshire; Take a look, it's glory savour.Many sneer "That county' flat!"So they miss it's wondrous flavour.Flavour you can taste and feelFrom agricultural strife;Structured soil and drainage dyke;Producing food, maintaining life.Out on the coast we import coalAnd oil from the ocean bed.Further inland the best beef comesFrom our ancient Lincoln Red.Our Wolds, a gentle rolling hill, Such views your heart apprize.Our flowing rivers, grassy fieldsAnd woods, decay despise.10Tony Ballaged 57Beyond the natural, out of scopeWhen England stood with little hope,A slender chance so oft appearedAs men like Gibson flew from here.(from Kirton, as well as Scampton)The Great War's dreadnought warshipsBuilt from industry still favoured;The ironworks of which it's saidThe heavens reflect our labours.Yes, oft forgot by a modern lotSo raise a glass of Tom Woods beerFor it's past and present, it's future too,Let's celebrate North Lincolnshire!11Lincolnshire Through the SeasonsSpring...Flowers are emerging through the Lincolnshire soil,Elsham lambs are springing about.Farming season is beginning againWhen new crops are starting to sprout.Birds warble in newly green trees,Fish swim up Ancholme Valley streams.Insects begin to reappearAnd warm Lincolnshire sun starts to beam.Summer...Fields of luscious greenAnd eastern skies of endless blue.Brigg Farmers Markets, Lincolnshire sausageAnd nature's bright colours renewed.12Lily Odlinaged 13Autumn...Big piles of gathered harvest cropsAnd warm traditional dinner.As woodlands change their colour schemeAnd branches on trees become thinner.Bright red berries, country leaves.It's the perfect time for a stroll,In Hartsholme or Normanby parksWith fresh air that fills yours lungs whole.Winter...The temperature is getting lower.The days were long, now short.The Lincolnshire Wolds freeze overWith the chilly winds winter has brought.1314Waters’ EdgeIsaac Sidawayaged 9The lush, clean riverThe great, long Humber BridgeThe yellow young chicks come our for their foodAt Waters’ EdgeThe tall rustling reeds that tower over the edge of the pondRocks that cover the twisting, windy pathsThe colourful flowers that wrap around the grey rocksLong grass covers the bottom of the treesGo inside, a creamy teaMaybe not, a gift shop you and meGo outside, stand on the pebblesTurn the corner to the goatGrab your binoculars, look over thereSixteen acres of land full of wildlifeBirds up in each treeLand full of sun at Waters’ Edge15A Place To BeCatriona Hallowayaged 30Close your eyes and drift away,This is a place to come and stay.Places to visit and things to doShops, culture and history too.A farming past with a tale to tell,Endless landscape where wildlife dwell.Museums that delve into the past,Nature reserves where beauty lasts.The Pink Pig Farm with lots to see,A fine gatehouse named Thornton Abbey.Theatres with performances galore,An art gallery that goes on tour.A train that takes us to the centre of steel,Places where you can get a good meal.Country parks with acres of land,A skydive centre high in demand.Lying in the shadow of the Humber Bridge,Nearby water as cold as a fridge,There are places here to relax and unwindOr locations if you are the party kind.So close your eyes and drift awayTo our home we are proud to say.A community for you and me,North Lincolnshire the place to be. 16Wooden DuchessDaisy Williamsonaged 13In the sharp arc of an arrowhead moonHer feet - like raindrops - steppedSent daggers through me, as blunt as a duneAnd bullets made echoes as they crept.(She was, like a duchess,Of some other kind)And - O! - how she moved,Toward my heart, maroonedBy the bitter swift passing of loveThat I never spoke of; my head, no control ofThe way things become with that - love.But with that same power,And time, filled an hourSweet thought became sourOr cloying, at bestMy duchess, my duchessWhose sentiment strengthens;Your memory is flippant,Your loyalties distress.17My Life in LincolnshireEvelyn Nelsonaged 8Watching the sunset go down above the horizon,flashing beams of light across the wolds.Watching people walk their dogs,the people are both young and old.I sit up on the climbing frame,my mum sits beside me,we watch the sheep on the hills,plodding about so calmly.Here life is happy.Alfie Borrillaged 11There is a place I love,A big playground,With lots of swings, see-saws and other fun things.My friends come sometimes and play there,Grandad is waiting down below –away we go,Standing up at the top, then coming down with a drop.The basket swing is very fun,It goes up and down, left and right,On the trampoline you can do tricks.The rocking roundabout, goes up and down,And around and around,So much it makes me dizzy.Our new park is the best!It’s so much better than all the rest.18The New Park19Briony Drewaged 7The steaming hot Steelworks, is as smoky as a crackling fire.The cold, chilly snow, is as shivering as a slushy maker.Snow is falling down from the bright blue sky.The warm, hot steelworks is redhot as a boiling, burning barbecue.Icy floor is covered with some cold, soft snow.The pretty, cosy snow is as soft as a fluffy, cute cat.The noisy, busy steelworks is covered with cold, icy snow.The cold, slushy snow is freezing as a brain freeze.Steel and SnowNext >