Number two in our look at the work of local poets features Stephen Kingnorth again. This one explores and describes our fair county. You can find more of his poetry on his blog.
If you are a poet yourself, why not send us your work and we may be able to include it in a future issue.
Photo courtesy of GraceWood Photography
On the Edge
Dropped mountain high, up lowdown Dee,
a census signed a bard around,
no lack of dreams, a time machine,
both mares and far horizon seas,
of boundaries, like modern key
a wavy broken curvy thing,
transparent to incursive styles.
How is it, living on the edge
when colonists seek wider stretch,
where earthenwear bares ore, bears dyke,
undermines over who we are?
Patronymics named a claim
diverse communities reined in;
Plas Coch remains left Roman bones,
found ground, grown meadowsweet below
where Gwenfro met the Mercians,
set Maelor lordships marched along.
Jester in need, juggle dancer too,
light heart step measure balls in air
in Wristlesham, font tag at time,
by motte and bailey, Chester’s earl,
resigned to house, Powys Fredog.
Demesne lands loan to Vaile Crucis,
Cistercian lead with cowling monks,
market exchange for Denbighshire,
but which our land and where our home?
Welsh Alexander, Glyndŵr backed,
where wordsmiths warped, weft nailers dyed,
Chirk parliament, gentry, the king
as chronos passed could Kairos sing?
To ore-some underground surround,
came revolution, supple gave
to hardened impregnable wall;
here Wilkinson, said iron mad,
led to Minera, Bersham works,
both solid brick, bright Brymbo steel.
Museum rose, militia, peel,
Sassoon and Graves, for Gresford coal,
a regency, hub cross roads sale,
where start ups thrive, no end entailed,
Wrecsam ahead and Wrexham spread.