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Olivia Kent Jan 2014
There was a chap called Charlie.
Who lived in separation.
In total world of degradation.
Father left when he were nine.
A raging alcoholic.
Charlie, his brother and his mother.
Sent off to the workhouse.
In the land of Lambeth.
No palace.
The family were ushered into areas of segregation.
Mother and children apart in our apparently grand nation.
Product of shame documented by satirists.
Dickens's favourite topic.
Poor folks made poorer,

In workhouses designed to embarrass.
Those already destitute,
Not by choice for sure.
Only crime being poor.
Dignity stripped.
Destroyed of heart.
Wrecked in health
To reduce their being even more.
God help you if you were not fit.
**** of the earth, you were purged.

We the Brits now get benefits,
Be grateful that we do.

___________________­____

Charlie found extreme success.
When as a film star of the silent kind.
With a plaque on the wall of his once posh house in Vauxhall.
His surname it was Chaplin!
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
I could, of course, do the Lambeth Walk
two steps,
quick steps,
lick my wounds and come out fighting.
If,
I get the backlighting right, but
on the stage age is no barrier
to foolishness.

I waltz with giraffes which get
a few laughs and
inside me
the hyena dies slow.

The show must go on and so
into the spot,
lit up and shot dead
well read by the audience,
another poor performance but
I could always of course, do
the Lambeth walk.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Streatham's White Garden lies between a walled Old English garden and a small orchard in the Rookery, once the grounds of a large house dating back to 1786, and now an historic Grade II listed public garden. The elegant double borders, backed by trees and climbers and edged with lawn, echo each other down the length of the garden, with white benches marking each end. Still the only white garden in any of London's public parks, the White Garden pre-dates Vita Sackville-West's famous grey, green and white garden at Sissinghurst by at least 30 years.

Local volunteers under the leadership of Kew-trained designer Alison Alexander and project co-ordinator Charlotte Dove (both working for the Friends of Streatham Common, who successfully raised funding for the project from the Heritage Lottery Fund) carried out the recent restoration. The restoration was based on archival research and visits to other historic gardens, and is faithful to the spirit of the Arts and Crafts-inspired Edwardian original. Many of the plants in the new design have been chosen for their historical associations, including shasta daisy (Leucanthemum x superbum), ostrich fern (Matteuccia struthiopteris), and a white cultivar of the old-fashioned English rose, Rosa spinosissima – all plants that would have been as familiar to the leading lights of the movement, such as William Robinson and Gertrude Jekyll, as they were to the Edwardian gardeners who planted up the original garden.

This is a serene place, much loved by visitors. But serenity is not the whole story – determination also plays a role in the history of this garden. Streatham residents fought a public campaign to rescue the Rookery grounds (the house itself was demolished in 1912) from the wave of suburban housebuilding that reached a peak in the years before the First World War. The gardens were laid out by Major Philip Maud of London County Council (LCC), and opened in 1913.

The concerns surrounding cramped urban living conditions that gave rise to the public parks movement in the nineteenth century remain a reality today. Open spaces are a necessary release valve: an escape from the pressures of city life, and proven to have a positive effect on mental and physical health. It is no coincidence that the LCC designs for other public gardens designed in the period (including the Old English garden in nearby Brockwell Park) were also influenced by the Arts and Crafts movement: it was a style ideally suited to the purpose, being itself a reaction to the negative impact of industrialization, and an expression of nostalgia for an idyllic imagined past.

Despite the pressures of the city, horticulture has long been part of this area's heritage, and for much of last century it thrived: amateur and professional gardeners alike participated in fruit and flower shows organised by newly-formed clubs and societies, well-maintained civic parks delighted visitors and residents, allotments flourished, and local nurserymen like John Peed of West Norwood produced lavish catalogues of the latest horticultural discoveries.

As government funding for green spaces has decreased, however, gardens like the Rookery have suffered from reductions in maintenance budgets: as late as the 1970s, seven gardeners were dedicated to the Rookery alone, but today only two contractors are based there. Once again local residents have responded, developing community groups, volunteer-led projects and local fundraising, and working closely with the Lambeth Parks Service. One such community group, the Streatham Common Co-operative (SCCoop), aims to take on the gardens and increase the number of gardeners. Applications for outside funding have been productive: most of the plants for the White Garden restoration were purchased with a grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund, with the Metropolitan Public Gardens Association providing a grant for new white roses. But resources are finite, and – in the best tradition of ecological planting – the new plants for the White Garden have been chosen to suit the prevailing conditions, and to flourish with minimal maintenance. Gardens have always thrived on both innovation and tradition, and the restoration of the White Garden at Streatham Rookery is a tribute to those who are prepared to find new ways of looking after treasured open spaces.

Love Mary ***
Information to go with my poem The Rookery
Thank you poets .love Mary
RH 78 Jan 2015
Holland park to Queensway
Safe as houses
North Acton to White City
Stay on the train
Finchley Road to Wembley Park
"All change please"
"This train terminates here"
West Ham to Star Lane
6 minutes to walk 6 minutes to wait.
Elephant & Castle to Lambeth North
IWM you know what I mean!
East to West North to South
Oyster at the ready!
LNDN
O I love it!
John Lock Jan 2018
For a small town girl
Alone in the sprawl of the creaking metropolis
She kept to the bustle of the hurrying crowd
Lacking the courage to explore
London’s surfeit of nooks and crannies
~
Where Dickens once walked the
Victorian cobbled alleys and beyond
Passed unnoticed by wide eyed tourists
Harried by their clip board minders
Mindful to keep to the tight schedule.
~
Long enough now for wonder to subside
With time to absorb the lessons to be learnt
By taking the bus over Westminster Bridge
To avoid the Tube’s rush hour crush of humanity
and the wandering hands of marauding touchy feelers
~
Friends are hard to find north of the Thames
Work time colleagues return home to suburbia
Leaving London to the empting streets
Feral cats emerge to scavenge the waste bins
While the bag lady beds down in a vacant doorway
~
In an Italian coffee house on the Lambeth embankment
She found a special place to sit and scribble
Where the customers provided flesh for her characters
Where Giovanni breaks into song when the trade slackens
and Amor di Pastorello is in tune with the lapping tide.
and now you're doing the shuffle
because you've downed ten Largactil
and that'll lead you to heaven or
to the steps of the scaffold,
but
we're all hung and drawn from
the moment we're born,
we should be used to swaying
in the breeze.
John Dunn Jul 2020
Face to face beloved her I saw straight-
And kidding it- airily edged twice
With flaming sword to slash my gut to price
This sin my taste for fleshless comfort mate;
As I past cattle taxed on belly wait
The wage of food and dust known to entice
Beloved her to death, with rib for vice
Ruling over that sin her taste for hate.
And I tempt down my mouth and fall the same
For furrowed brow as her for bearing pain
In birthing souls that voice caught naked out.
Now beloved her has everlasting fame
As seeded bride to be a spirit lain
In white to clothe our sin this taste of doubt.
The clocks are going forward soon,
it's such a shame that this country isn't.

It seems like we're stuck doing the Lambeth Walk,
minus a leader,
like
a school with no chalk

'All our yesterdays'
feel like today

‘The lamps are going out all over Europe...'
              ( Sir Edward Grey )
Sam Lawrence Jan 2023
Lambeth Hospital closed down,
four years after I was born.
I refuse to believe that these
two minor events are unrelated.

My own trajectory was set long
before my birth. Necessity paved
the way to planning the new North
Wing of nearby St Thomas'.

Just as planetary alignment will
shape us, a city council understands
how their work changes destinies.
So what about free will, you ask?

We are free to believe in whatever
mysterious forces we choose; banal,
supernatural or otherwise. Damage
from wear and tear is not covered.
Things are not going our way are they?,
but
we can still do 'the Lambeth Walk'
and still talk the talk,
chalk one up for us.

Brexit's the pits
or it would be
if we had any,

they make coal today from Lego
it's not smokeless and it costs more
but
it makes it easier to build a fire.

— The End —