This poem was written by Susan McCartney, a member of the Wakefield Word Writers' Group.
It was written in response to the West Riding Asylum nurse's whistle in our 100 Years of Collecting Online Exhibition.
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In Stanley Royd, a whistle sounds shrill
It echoes through the solemn air
It’s an attendant’s way to calm and still
Guiding those lost to despair
A whistle may chase the dark away
A lifeline, patching patients’ breakable strings
A calming balm for minds astray
Down somber wards, it gently sings
A whistle wielded with resolve and care
In this place, where souls are confined
It’s a beacon of light expelling despair
A comfort, a hope, for the troubled mind
The whistle’s notes, a shriek or a kiss
Each musical or strident melody
May pierce the chaos, enter the abyss
And a troubled mind may find a harmony
The silvery notes, they command, they sigh
They control or sing a lullaby
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