Bio-engine; boomed profound
and gave to me a sign,
though trekking flat’s; acceptable,
but why not make a climb?
So, with my legs as masters,
they took me up a lane,
then painful vivid memory,
replayed a broke bike chain,
after laughing at the kid,
that I used to be,
I cut through wooded jitties,
to see it; front of me,
“Beacon Hill, Beacon Hill,
be my urban mountain!”
Is what could be heard inside,
my body’s inner shouting,
passing by dear Sweaty Gert’s,
of which, the sweets were good,
also; by; old friend’s; old house,
where we played in mud,
next; there was some humming,
of grid works; that make glow,
coupled by the rumbling,
from motorway below,
still ascending up the road,
the trees began to speak,
“bless his little youngling heart,
we bet he’s feeling weak!”
Pushed on; with beam; I did
for one more steeping mile,
glistening in the distance,
was such familiar stile, thus
another thousand metres trod,
granted me to say,
“hello there; tall Coddington,
how are you today?”
Kind reply; was merry met,
going by their school,
within; my little sister Charles,
acted like a fool,
around a quaint-aged corner,
chapel sang its psalm,
other than boys kick about,
all was hushed and calm,
sternly parched; I became, but
pubs were not the scene,
hence, no supping in the Plough,
or at the Inn on Green,
therefore, I gulped my water,
core function then did say,
bravo, for reaching very top,
yet, hometown’s other way!
Thus, what goes up, must come down,
later I descended,
whilst looking back at such a feat,
thinking all was splendid!
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Online)
- Published: August 29th, 2024 08:22
- Comment from author about the poem: Here is another instalment of my "promenade poems", and this one was a real tester on my tootsies. Coddington, is a village just outside my hometown of Newark, but the "easiest" way to get there on foot, is to climb Beacon Hill, which depending on the day, can be quite steep indeed. It was also a very grey day, thus, I thought it was going to rain, so I tried hard to make good time. I went via Clay Lane, a place where I have some painful memories, one including me falling off my bike, fracturing my collarbone! I then went through a little woodland walkway, where I met with Beacon Hill, and the old house where one of my best friends used to live. Though I have some memories of Coddington, my sister has more, as she finished her primary education at the primary school there. Also, when I used to be the drummer of my secondary school's band, we used to do a little Christmas tour around the local primary schools, Coddington was one of them, and they had a really good time, as did we. Accompanying the poem, is a picture of the village church, where a choir practice was happening. It sounding amazing! Additionally, the banner picture is very reminiscent of the hill that had to be climbed. Though it was somewhat arduous, it was worth it, for such a wholesome reward. I hope that you enjoy the poem, happy walking/climbing, and as always, please do stay safe everyone.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 3
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