Blanket darkness of a moonless night sky
Like a jeweller’s giant felt cloth stretches
A black expanse to the upward looking eye.
Sprinkled thereon a twinkle of stellar gems,
Sparkle of faceted diamonds shining down,
Ancient rays of alien suns, pin drops of time
And space, engendering awe in all who saw
These flawless priceless gifts from the past.

Wise words Frank.

Beautiful Frank.

English Treasure

Queen Boudicca's calibre
Arthur with Excalibur
Poppies at the Cenotaph
Gandalf and his magic staff,
Finely-crafted Morris treats
Triffids on deserted streets
Sunsets of the Kinks suffice
Waterloo is paradise,
Country lanes that tend to wind
Dreams that Millais left behind
Looming Stonehenge megaliths
Dover's white defiant cliffs,
Betjeman and William Blake
Bluebird speeding on the lake
Alfred Hitchcock, Robin Hood
Roast beef next to Yorkshire pud,
Pots of tea for pick-me-ups
Non-league teams in FA Cups
Cornish bays with little boats
Kenneth Williams anecdotes,
Vintage cars that need a push
Lily Langtry and Kate Bush
Barges on remote canals
Enid Blyton's Noddy tales,
Fish and chips and shepherd's pies
Eric Morecambe, Ernie Wise
Tommy Cooper's scarlet fez
Whistle Down The Wind and Kes,
Village taverns, Desperate Dan
Thomas Paine's The Rights of Man
Sunshine on the Pennines Way
Skies of unrelenting grey,
Alan Bennett, Morrissey
Weston-super-Mare by sea
Peter Pan, a bear called Pooh
And The Long Good Friday too,
Henry Tudor's lengthy reign
HG Wells and Michael Caine
Winston Churchill, Rubber Soul
English Treasure makes me whole.


©

I think we do question more than we used to, but it doesn't stop the soldiers dying


One of your most beautiful pieces Frank, I found this deeply spiritual too. It's weird to think that when we look at the stars we're seeing something from millions of years ago.

Thanks Biz and Musty for your comments. Musty, a marvelous idea the plaudits for things you appreciate that are quintessentially English, although personal. I'm sure many will relate to many of these. Me too.

Ta Frank Ages ago when I first posted the poem you rightly noted how I'd omitted John Betjeman - in this version I've corrected that oversight

A windy Cornish cove

I left a Cornish tavern for
A stroll down to a Cornish shore,
From walls of cottages aglow
The beach was just a pebble's throw.

I turned the final corner and
Observed a lonely strip of sand,
It seemed to be a secret place,
Of tourists there were not a trace.

On such a grey and windswept day
I sensed Daphne DuMaurier,
The birds swooped low and made a din
Yet here stood no Jamaica Inn.

The cove possessed a ravaged form,
Its surface must have suffered storm
Erosion for so many years,
Absorbing spray into the tiers.

Wet seaweed glistened dark and green,
Then I imagined in the scene
How smugglers with illegal stock
Approached the jagged moonlit rock.

From leagues of rough Atlantic foam
I watched their vessels sailing home,
I noticed lanterns shining bright
On ships that only trade at night.

And after glimpsing coastal crime
I came back to the present time;
What dreams await me when I rove
Down to a windy Cornish cove.


©

Good to see John included - "Come friendly bombs etc." It probably didn't endear him to the residents of Slough. I wonder where that name came from. It makes me think of "the slough of despond" in Pilgrim's Progress.


I'd avoid that cove today, if I were you; must be pretty windy down there today.

Waves cascading
On desolate beach
Of a dark deserted shore.
Splashing sounds
And drips of blood
As rabid vultures soar
Loathsome their screech
Vile drippings from the maw.
Red ocean's flood,
Heart beat pounds
Red, red resounds;
Mind wondering: what does it mean?
Red: the sound of War.

From my Dictionary Of English Place-Names Biz:

'Slough, Berks - The slough or miry place'

So slough is old English for swamp, but you're right as it can also mean 'a state of hopeless depression'. Either way it has associations of getting bogged down. Pop singer Morrissey's a big fan of John Betjeman - his song Everyday Is Like Sunday contains the lyric:

In the seaside town
That they forgot to bomb,
Come, come, come nuclear bomb!

A very powerful poem Frank, much enjoyed I couldn't find Synethsesia in my dictionary though

So I suppose Slough must have been built on a swamp.


Ooooh! What was he thinking. It's possible to go just too far.



I think it was poetic licence Musty - or a typo.


Must be quite a distressing condition for those afflicted Frank.

A bomb is a bomb is a bomb Biz 'Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!' - I'm sure Betjeman never really meant it

But somehow it didn't seem to be offensive when Betjeman said it - anyway, think of the nuclear fall-out.

Knew I'd cock up on the spelling of this (thanks Biz generously calling it a typo). Should be "Synesthesia," couldn't get my mind let alone tongue round it, its just a condition I heard of that means some people sense sound as certain colours. Sorry to confuse. Thanks for reading and commenting Musty and Biz.
IMO old Betj was being extreme ungratuitously for the purpose of arguing his aesthetic opining on the state of Slough, like Clarkson saying people should be shot (but i.e. not seriously).

I know what you mean - John Betjeman was such a friendly figure. I love the fact that he never discarded his teddy bear


Thanks for clearing that up Frank I agree about Slough. The poem used the town as a symbol of all the modern things he hated. It wasn't really a vicious attack on the place, more a statement of discontent on the changes in life that the poet couldn't stand.

Arwen Evenstar

As mithril jewels seen from afar
Or playful rippling surf
What beauty Arwen Evenstar
Possessed in Middle-earth.

Her eyes were like a cloudless night
Revealing gentle grace,
Her dresses shone with gleaming light
And though age on her face

Etched wisdom deep as oceans she
Remained forever young;
A flower fair for all to see
Who spoke the Elvish tongue.

Her loveliness was unsurpassed
And poets still respond,
But Arwen Evenstar has passed
Into the mists beyond.


©

He was a bit of a teddy bear himself.


A beautiful poem, though I haven't read/seen Lord of the Rings.

Thanks Biz Here's Arwen in a scene from the film.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qxxfrdYvl8

Wow! You could do with her services in the south; you're short of water.

Britain's saddest theft

I

This tale rarely gets a mention
And may not be known to all;
How religious intervention
Caused Avebury's stones to fall.

The monument in Wiltshire we see
Really is a special thing,
Completed in 3000 BC,
Two avenues and one great ring.

It should have stayed unchanged forever,
Without Christian fear it might
But Puritans full of endeavour
Came to desecrate the site.

The locals in the medieval
Era had a job to do
With yokel tools for fighting evil,
Shovels, spades and crowbars too.

There was no fair consideration
Given to this pagan place,
They had no thought or toleration,
All they saw was Satan's face.

And so the megaliths were tumbled,
Men worked hard and yet still bound
By superstition, no stones crumbled;
Most were buried underground.

II

Avebury, from our prehistory
Stood the next four hundred years
But 'progress' seemed to weaken mystery;
What remained lured merchant peers.

Thus did temple turn to quarry,
Bridges, drains and cottage walls
Planned by builders never sorry,
Profit was the only cause.

The western avenue through pillage
Lost two hundred stones, in sun
Here they shimmered near the village,
Yet today there's only one.

Stone-breakers' names were recorded,
Griffin, Robinson and Green,
Fowler, doing something sordid,
Picture now the awful scene:

Sledgehammers primed for destruction,
Sarsen burned or smashed to lumps
Till a mystical construction
Lay in fragments, bits and stumps.

Though six hundred stones here towered
Less than eighty now are left,
Avebury where magic flowered,
Scene of Britain's saddest theft.


©

I'm glad to see it raining today Biz

It would have been wonderful to see them in their original state


Very welcome I'm sure. It's good to see the gardens greening up.

Avebury in its original state would have been amazing Biz - each stone avenue was a mile long! Alas, those in ignorance of our heritage destroyed it. Luckily, what's left is still incredible

No one explains it better than Julian Cope, one of my heroes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hr5a0WqlYE0