A Move to Bleadon Hill


By marandina
- 576 reads
A Move to Bleadon Hill
Bleak factories billowing smoke,
steel towers industrial sentinels
amid seas of concrete and glass;
all of this now salient - memories,
my urban hymn for a distant town
in exchange for coastal skies.
New horizons made of bluer tines
where seagulls glide on eddies,
deceptively balletic in avian flight,
rugged shorelines recede at low tide
seemingly to the edge of beyond,
brackish waters head to faraway lands.
I have been here before – often,
childhood holidays in caravans,
cabaret shows at late night venues,
chips, battered fish in Styrofoam trays,
the past now merged with the present,
a journey that’s spanned a lifetime.
To follow a meandering lodestar,
is happiness a function of moments?
I hear a rumbling train pass and,
for a few seconds, I am a metaphor,
a passenger travelling in the ether
en route to destination unknown.
The Downs they call to me,
beckoning like singing sirens,
whispers, quiescent entreaties,
to stand on scree, cliff’s edge,
watch white horses crest waves
and stare out at lost islands
where the cormorants live.
*Picture is my own.
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Comments
Enjoyed this, empathising
Enjoyed this, empathising with your enjoyment in the scenes and the peace and space. I grew up in Barry til I was eight and a short time awhile later. Rhiannon
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To return and reflect on a
To return and reflect on a setting that brings back so many carefree memories, was a pleasure to read Paul. It sounds like you've found contentment, long may it continue.
Thank you for sharing this evocative poem.
Jenny.
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Beautifully done marandina,
Beautifully done marandina, enjoy your new house!
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This is very lovely, Paul.
This is very lovely, Paul. The adjustment from one place to another, however much you love the new surroundings, always takes a while. You have landed in a beautiful area. It sounds like a wonderful new beginning.
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How lovely to go back to
How lovely to go back to where your happy memories begin, as though you are rooted in the best place for contentment to grow, in peace.
ps should this be "tones"?
New horizons made of bluer tines
poor cats, waiting to explore while birds hatch :0) And those poor birds!
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I too am metaphor. A lifetime
I too am metaphor. A lifetime to understand ourself. Now you've moved. Enjoy, no longer being a boy.
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