On the day that April Ashley

became a citizen of honour

in her home town that was once rugged,

rough, the tumbled down

and decaying, you cannot but help raise a smile

and nod to the fact that acceptance is the most

powerful form of understanding, a lesson that rarely

gets learned and that we are all guilty

of displaying the disgraceful

ridicule to those whose hearts beat

in time with ours.

 

I saw her being interviewed once

by one of the greats of the new build city

and in the background

the jolly steward was forthright and right in his appraisal

of her life and what she means to all.

Take a look at the black and white photographs

that adorned the walls of the museum

and say with any hint of sarcasm, say something derogatory

and it will say more about your ignorance

than it ever could destroy the beauty that resides in those

flashing eyes as she reaches eighty.

 

On the day that April Ashley was honoured in this way,

the home town that she had to leave

finally came of age and held tightly

to its own majestic bosom, perhaps one of

the finest daughters,

alongside Beryl Marsden and Margaret Aspinall

and others who have flown the flag so high,

this daughter of Liverpool, has come home.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015