Years of cultivation and domestication with little time to play
Industrial winds and those of change, supplemented the gardeners skill
Brick, coal and human dust, now settled on Mapperley’s clay.
Gazing over the town to the Trent, preceding a time for nostalgia
Grazing, rearing and coppice clearing
Indigenous bracken and gorse, adding acer and salix alba
These hills now had more meaning.
Industry led to wealth and something novel; leisure time
For the middle class, their houses of glass in a space to sail away.
Town Gardens the answer, within a mile, supplied by Messrs Hine
Relief from the noise of the framework, the mine and railway
The concept proved great and the gardeners free; to produce in variety
Only restricted by the need to feed in times of war
Where wholesome and plain outweighed the fragrant and pretty.
While digging for victory was the call; they dug for much more
Coronation and the liberated youth brought forth new optimism
The struggles of the past were very fast forgotten
The area developed, the gardens enveloped, a siege not unlike a prison
This rustic retreat now in defeat, had the smell of something rotten
Nature ahead of nurture and no-one to make a stand
As factories diminished, Hungerhill looked finished and dead
The area’s inevitable future? Another Legoland
The city’s leaders lacking a plan, looked away instead.
To those that remained and initiative regained; in 1994
To the features and the creatures that remained for many years
To those that understand history but never experienced war
Celebrate this fertile ground,appreciate its laughter and tears.
The people are all the richer, to have been part of Hungerhill.
The panorama has altered, and society did falter that is true
Industrial winds and those of change, happen again they will