A forgotten poem and memories of another life When my husband announced the other day that he was going to have a sort out my heart sank.  My husband has a habit of not looking properly at what he is chucking out and I always end up going through the recycling bin and saving bits of paperwork.  This time however things have been slightly different.  Amongst the paper debris he found this poem I had written many years ago.  I cringed when he handed it me.  I had forgotten I used to write poetry but as I read it I started to laugh as I recalled the disastrous date that inspired this rhyme. To give you some background, my husband (then boyfriend) had decided to take me on a 'romantic' date to the Black Country.  The Black Country is a part of the Midlands that is named after the black soot that came from the industries that covered the area during the 1800?s.  It is also famous for its ale and meaty pies and many Black Country Tours have sprung up that will take you around the area's pubs before ending up in a local pie factory, notably Mad O'Rourkes.  These pub crawls became very fashionable in the 1980s and 90s and it was during that time that my boyfriend decided to treat me to a barge cruise through the Black Country.  Unfortunately, as you will read, it wasn't as romantic as he had hoped. July the 4th is the