Birmingham’s Bhangra Babes

The thunder of the Dhol

Can stir rich memories in your soul

Of those Birmingham Bhangra Babes.

On the bus,

In the park

At the cinema after dark

They sing and dance out a revolution

A twisting turning multicultural solution.

On still autumn days

In summers soporific haze

I remember the crazy

Body and beat,

On the tarmac in the street

Moving grooving hennaed feet.

Torrid colours,

Glitz of gold

Ancient stories

Aching to be told

Love and Loss

Hate and Love

Are they freedom fighters?

Or peaceful turtle doves?

Or will being both never be enough

For my spinning, heart winning

Yearning – dance floor burning

Bold and Brave

Birmingham Bhangra Babes.