A tale inspired by a visit to “Lark Hill Place” in Salford’s Museum and Art Gallery
forging metal for the ‘smith
who fixes shoes for the horses
and the wheels for the carts they’re withIt can be dark and gloomy in th’foundry
when the coals dim their glow
but the iron fires up brightly
and on the anvil it goesAnd he’ll fit the shoes on th horses
bashing horseshoes to go on their feet
and wont hit nails in t’ hoove till
he knows that everythings reetFor the shoes that dont fit the horse well
end up back in the oven to glow
will the shoes in this rhyme, fit the horse in time?
Only the smithy will know
But the blacksmith’s an honest profession
and horses, he’ll come to their aid.
Making horseshoes that are nice, set at the right price
ensuring that he gets well paid.