Burton's own poet Joan Shaw Looking through one of the boxes on the shelves in the local studies room in Loughborough library, I came across a small book of verse entitled Charnwood Memories and priced at 6d. The author was a Burton man, Edward Mansell Buxton, and it was published in the early years of the Second World War when he was twenty-five. The second poem in the book suggests that he may have already lost one of his young friends. Now he has gone: his spirit lingers on the starry night. He who hath changed his early garb for Heaven’s coat of white. His noble heart, his smiling eyes that countless friends adored Are now so still, so peacefully still in Heaven with the Lord. Fast fleeting years shall ne’er erase his name from honour’s roll. And friends will oft remember the brightness of his soul. The skies are dark, the world in tumult roars with fury blind. But calm and peaceful he doth sleep, beloved of mankind. The former chapel on Barrow Road. Edward was born at Burton on the Wolds in 1916 and christened on 14th August at the little chapel on Barrow Road. He was named, according to the register, Albert Edwin Mansell Buxton. His father died in the First World War and he lived with his mother and stepfather and grandparents at one of the 'New Cottages' on Loughborough Road. The 'New Cottages' in 2026. The last poem in Edward’s little book is entitled 'My Dream' and in it Edward reminisces about his peacetime world that is fast disappearing. I crave to hear those sweet bells again, ringing from out of the sky, For all I need is a merry tune borne over the field of rye, And the lark’s song and the wind’s kiss and a new day breaking, And a mossy seat down a green lane and a new world waking. I crave to hear those sweet bells again, playing a roundelay From some rare high Carillon tower at the end of a busy day; And the sweet tone of a child’s song with the bells in chorus, And evening calm, and a quiet prayer, ere sleep falls o’er us. For over fifty years Edward’s poems were regularly published in the Loughborough Echo and elsewhere, and during that time he married and raised a family. For most of his adult life he worked on a farm at Cotes and lived in Stanford Lane. He delivered fresh milk in and around Loughborough and was a familiar figure on his trusty tricycle. On one occasion, during a blizzard, his efforts to reach his customers resulted in his failure to stop at a Belisha crossing and he was apprehended by a police constable. When he appeared in court he presented his defence in rhyme and it was reproduced in the Echo. From that day forward he was known locally as the Milkboy Poet. His verses range from tears to laughter, the serious to the ridiculous, and many reflect local and national events. Whatever was happening wherever in the world, Edward made his point in rhyme. You may agree with him, you may disagree, but the lines are always worth a few minutes of your time. In addition, he regularly gave public readings in Loughborough and Shepshed. His friends Lou Watret and Frank Clark set many of the poems to music and made a recording with 'Fields of Leicestershire' on one side and 'The Maid of Sherwood' on the other. Tapes were sold in aid of the Leicester General Hospital and many are probably still stashed away at the back of cupboards. A real Charnwood memory. More than forty years after his first little book, Mr Buxton published, A Little Book of Rhyme, which he distributed, free of charge, through local health centres and hospitals and community centres such as John Storer House, saying 'I hope my poems will cheer people up a bit and help them to while away the time.' In 1992 his poem about Flobbs, the tramp who frequented Loughborough Market Place, was included in an anthology of Leicestershire and Rutland poetry. Mr Buxton remembered the village of his birth with great affection and we have found two poems about Burton. There may be more. The first is a reminder of his schooldays and was written for a reunion of Burton School pupils that was held in 1991 at Prestwold Hall. We remember with pride our old Burton school And the pals that we once used to know: Since those dear days of yore fast the years have flown by As our separate ways we did go. We remember our teachers who gave us their all The playgrounds that echoed our mirth In those primitive days at the old Burton school Which to us were the best days on earth. And if we could write of those days long ago Surely many a page we could fill; As oft we recall the fair days of our youth At the school on the crest of the hill. The school Mr Buxton refers to was the old Burton board school at the Prestwold junction. Lion's Mouth Fountain photographed when the road surface was lower so people needed to step up to it, not down. The other Burton poem is about our iconic fountain. Over the past few years this has caused many headaches for our parish council when the water has ceased to flow. In 1989 such a problem had just been overcome, nevertheless its condition was still causing a lot of heartache for our poet who wrote in the Echo that he felt the villagers should take a little more pride in their famous spring, 'The drinking ladle has long since gone, and the fountain’s surroundings certainly need a spring clean'. He went on to say that the people of Burton should be very proud that they have such an historic fountain. The fountain was constructed around 1820 by Charles Godfred Mundy of Burton Hall to replace the old town pond and provide a good supply of clean water for the village. Burton-on-the-Wolds Lion’s Mouth Set in the old stone wall My grandma oft would show to me When I was o so small Where from it sweet spring water flowed A silv'ry splashing stream Cascading to the bowl below So brightly it did gleam. When farmers’ ponds were running dry In summers long ago, They oft would fill their water carts Beneath its steady flow. ‘Tis good to know this clear sweet spring Still feeds the fountain there Oh, may it do so for all time Is always my fond prayer.   Edward Mansell Buxton, Burton's own poet, died in 1995, leaving us a legacy that stretches way beyond that first little book of Charnwood Memories.

WHO pages only All the Web Two WHO books are now available as free PDFs. Click on covers to download.