Meritina Plc

factory fodder..if you didn't make it
into the NCB office you were doomed...
to a Moxon transporter..
and chained to a sewing machine
for the Textile Industry needed you.
"tha's not thick lass..tha just wants brass"
(we were not as Green as we were
cabbage looking)
When Time and Motion reared his head,
we hung low..and slowed up,
keeping our daily bread, at better rate,
We worked like bulls all week,
saving tickets for slack periods..
slipping them in, no wonder
production graphs never tallied up...
the heat wave  of 76,
in the Steam isle on pressers,
bikinis replaced  yellow overalls,
if I could take a video,
of lasses slapping the trouser's
on huge boards with nimble
limbs exposed in swirling mist,
it would be a H&S hazard,
as the boss often stood
mesmarised..transfixed

One Christmas we were told
complete the target and
you can go early..
twenty thousand dozen to be knocked out,
ready for transport on the lorry..
The big boss laid down the gauntlet..
and we minions sewn it up..
commrades of the 'Scratchit'
union,  joined forces on the lines,
All those from the latter jobs, like
tabbing and inspection came to the front
of the beast, and helped out,
from Top Stitch Waist to Blind hem
one big machine rolled, into pressing
and packing, it was a sight to see.
us lasses not as green as cabbage looking,
knocked them out, like bilio
an impressive sight in cargo..
"how have you done that ?"
" a full days work in under three ?! "
he never did click on,
all week we saved the tickets..
because we'd rather be at home.