´óÏó´«Ã½

This poem was submitted to the People's War Site by Louise Adamou, ´óÏó´«Ã½ Guide at the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Open Centre Hull on behalf of Brain Hodgins and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

Ada the braider from Hessle Road way
Braided and braided, by night and by day.
Nets hung from Hooks, at terrace end wide
Beneath Ada’s ‘pinny’ a child tries to hide.

From hooks on the wall Ada braided away
The kids in the terrace, each one at their play.
Hop scotch and skipping and block made their day
Their dads are all fishermen, and they’re all away.

Now Ada the braider she braided away
To braid the new nets, a pittance her pay.
To feed her young children, for a widow was she
The ship and her husband, claimed by the sea.

Her children she guided with love and with care
Blue and red ribbons, to tie back their hair.
Each morning she braided with needle and spool
As soon as the children had gone off to school.

But now no young fisherman in taxis do ride
And no big trawlers are awaiting the tide.
No nets now hang across terrace ands wide
And Ada the braider the poor lass has died.

But hush! If you listen, on the soft night air
Ada the braider is still braiding there,
She’s braiding the nets of the finest spun gold
For the fisher of men, his harvest to hold.

He trawls in the sea of all humanity,
For people like Ada, like you and like me.
So to Ada the braider as she’s braiding above,
We’ll blow her a kiss and send all our love.

Copyright — 1992-Brian Hodgins.

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Brian’s recollections are wholly based on real events.

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