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I Have NOWHERE else to post THIS!!!!!

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Hello. You guys are My Friends and I like speaking and sharing with you...

Some months ago, a Musician friend of mine introduced me to THIS song and THIS band:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmhACB1ZPQM

(It's a version of a Frank Higgins-penned song, based on REAL testimony from a survey about Child Coal Mine workers in Northumberland, England in 1842.)

For DAYS after discovering this, I couldn't listen to it without weeping... I just felt SO SORRY for Her... I wondered WHAT HAD EVER HAPPENED to Her, and of course I can never know... So I decided to WRITE her story...

Now, it's not REALLY a poem, I don't think, but it IS lyrical. It's certainly not a song... But NOW I can imagine that this is what happened to her and I feel better about the song!!!!

So:

Whatever Happened To Patience Kershaw?

"The lads say he's soft, not like a worker's hands, and they're not, in truth, aye but he looks so grand, as he reads from scripture and his soft clean hair flies as he tells us all Bible Stories about Jesus and The Promised Land...

He's clothes are black but not like black from the pit, and he smells like Mamma's ironing, not like us who smell like shit; for he's clean and and his eyes shine as he talks and it makes me wonder if...

There is something about me that catches he's drift...

He's nice to all us lassies you understand, but with me as he says goodbye he always takes me hand, and raises it to he's lips as he bids me good-day with a kiss like a sip... And I told Florrie and she said, "Daft Girl... As if?"

But last Sunday after lessons end he asked me if he could see me home and have words with my father!!!! I ran away in terror but the handsome bloody bugger only ran right after me! (You should have seen me mother's face as he entered under our rafter. )

"You'll take us as you find us, Sir, may I ask what brings you to our door?"

Well... He looked around the cottage, the dirt and the babies, the smoke from the fire, the smell of the cooking pot and and a million worse smells more...

"I would speak with your husband, Madam," he said, and me Mam went to get Dadda out from he's bed, and he arrives bleary-eyed and hung-over half dead and looks at the Vicar's Curate and this is what he said:

"Thou has a cheek young Vicar lad to disturb a Pit-Man on the only day that he can call he's own..."

And The Curate said, "My name is Sefton Ormsby and I've come to ask you if you'll let your daughter Patience be my bride now that she's grown?"

Well! I looked at me Mam, me Mam looked at me... Me Dad said, "Best sit down, Young Vicar. Mam, make us a pot of tea..."

And two weeks later us was wed, and EVERYBODY came! I knew when I saw Lord Malcomb things 'ud never be the same, and His Lordship gave us an envelope and a tiny house on his estate. And if it wasn't for what was to come I would have felt quite great...

Later at the rectory he took me to his bed. And I, as he expected, whinnied and I bled. But Oh My Christ the feel of him was something like a dream, I panted and I moaned and as he came I screamed! His touch was soft and loving, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was beautiful...

He kissed me and smiled, "My Wife..."

And then we did it again.

He gives me books to read now, Thomas Paine and all sorts of things, he says, "My Patience darling we know not what tomorrow brings..."

And I help him with the Sunday School and all the sooty kids... And we tell them, and we pray... "There will be better times than this..."

I haven't bled since May. My stomach's tight and it feels real. I cannot really tell. But it feels like it's a girl."


xx SF
Scarlet Seductress
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Quote by stephanie
Hello. You guys are My Friends and I like speaking and sharing with you...

Some months ago, a Musician friend of mine introduced me to THIS song and THIS band:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmhACB1ZPQM

(It's a version of a Frank Higgins-penned song, based on REAL testimony from a survey about Child Coal Mine workers in Northumberland, England in 1842.)

For DAYS after discovering this, I couldn't listen to it without weeping... I just felt SO SORRY for Her... I wondered WHAT HAD EVER HAPPENED to Her, and of course I can never know... So I decided to WRITE her story...


It's a lovely idea, Stephen. I listened to the song and wondered myself.

I did a bit of research for you...

Patience Kershaw was born in Northowram, West Yorkshire in 1826 to John Kershaw and his wife Elizabeth Haigh. She was one of eight children.

She died unmarried at the age of 42 in March 1869, in Wakefield, West Yorkshire.

(I prefer your ending.)

Liz xx
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Quote by Liz


It's a lovely idea, Stephen. I listened to the song and wondered myself.

I did a bit of research for you...

Patience Kershaw was born in Northowram, West Yorkshire in 1826 to John Kershaw and his wife Elizabeth Haigh. She was one of eight children.

She died unmarried at the age of 42 in March 1869, in Wakefield, West Yorkshire.

(I prefer your ending.)

Liz xx


Me too.

(Kisses You)

xx SF