Recently I discovered that my Great Grandma, Hilda Smout, was an avid poet. I wanted to share her work as a tribute to her life.
We lost Hilda in 2002. A Mother, Grandmother and Great Grandmother
A little seed
I often wonder what is in the ground
The wonders of this Earth
That man, as yet not found.
We plant a little seed into the Earth,
And she unfolds it.
Like a mother unto her child
She succours it.
Then in a little while,
A period of rest
Then it awakens to find
The glory of mankind,
And leaves the darkness
Of the Earth behind
Memories, they are so dear,
Especially at this time of year,
A baby’s smile, a lovers kiss,
My memories are made of this.
The sky was blue, when I was young.
We played among the new mown hay
Happy as larks the life long day.
When mam would shout us home for tea.
The old dog Nell barking happily
Would follow close behind.
When we got home,
The kettle was singing on the hob.
Mam her hair done in a bob,
Would give us butties thick and sweet,
Oh they were so great to eat.
My memories are made of this,
Sweet as a kiss.
I wonder as I look ahead,
What future has in store.
In this war torn world we live in
Will man destroy.
If only men, would stop and think
Of wars that have gone before
If wasted lives, like autumn leaves
Lying dead upon the floor.
Oh would it be, for you and me
If men would live more happily
When will it end, when will men turn
And call each other friend.
My heart is torn with pity.
As Christmas time grows near
I think of Biafra babies
Very far away from here.
I am a simple housewife
Money have I none,
But on this God’s Earth
Can’t something be done.
I see their swollen bellies
Their tiny starving limbs.
With limpid eyes they search the skies
And only ask for a crumb.
I stand alone upon a hill
The sweetness of the morning air
My lungs do fill.
I see the fields and hill’s beyond
And ducks quacking on a farmyard pond,
I think of wars across the sea
I stand alone and think, and see.
Thank the Lord for just being ‘Me’
I see the fields
Of growing corn
And thank the Lord
For being born
The world and us
Are born anew
There’s lots on this
Earth that we can do
The little town of Ellesmere
Is shaded by a lovely mere.
High on a hill nearby
St Mary’s Church stands,
Blessing the people that pass by
Her stained glass windows,
Catch the sun as if to say,
Blessed be, the Holy one.
An hour strikes from the old church clock
Inside the vicar awaits his flock
And as I kneel down to pray.
I sometimes, can’t think of words to say.
The words in my heart are between me and thee,
And lord I know thou knowest me.
Forgive me Lord for the sins I have done.
For you are the great forgiving one
For why, should we stray from thee.
When we are all God’s family——
One thought on “Hilda Smout: ‘Mum’s Poems’”
💓 I have just had a read through nan’s poems. I remember her putting pen to paper many a time.
Happy memories 🥰