Morpeth mopes amidst the mildewed mounds
Of coke and coal and grime hewn by hungry hands.
Derelict Silos silhouetted in a moonlit sky
Iron beasts and barren landscapes
Whilst Angel spreads her wings on hillside high.
Deep scars and seams of people slain
In Tanfield beneath the sleet and driving rain
The worlds oldest railway dilapidated in dormant sidings dies
Testament to Britain- the first industrial nation,
An epithet built on poor peoples’ lives.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
We spent Easter in the wind snow and rain, touring the North-East. This is for d’verse where we were asked to consider pilgrimage. To me this was a true pilgrimage. It was a journey I felt compelled to take. We stand on the shoulders of giants.
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Hues of Hankinson 
I love how you are so inspired by the lives of those who built your industrial country, as they influence many of your poems. I admit I am not so keen when perceiving the past, often — erroneously — going through life as if the world started when I was born. Thank you for looking with love’s lens at those who sacrificed so much.
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Nice description in the last line: “An epithet built on poor peoples’ lives.”
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A fine pilgrimage to honor the involuntary sacrifices
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S powerful poem Alison. But still there is love all through it. This is my new favorite of yours.
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Thank you so very much that means an awful lot. XXXX
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A worthy pilgrimage! Those who fail to learn from history … miss half of the Bible of life.
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Love the way you describe it with such a passionate voice… especially the alliteration is very good.
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Thank you Bjorn. XX
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As I read your poem this morning, Alison, my husband is on his way to Grimsby. It seems to me all roads north are a pilgrimage since many of our great industrial towns and fishing ports are in decline. I love the alliterative personification of ‘Morpeth mopes amidst the mildewed mounds / Of coke and coal and grime hewn by hungry hands’ and the imagery of ‘Iron beasts and barren landscapes’. The final line sums it up well – and I love your photographs!
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It was a really lovely journey and whilst coming home has been fraught with obstacles and difficulties I know that I am connected.
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Another terrific post. The remains of capitalism rusting away – as you say – “built on poor peoples’ lives”
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Thank you. XX
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A thoughtful, thankful pilgrimage by your recording of it…glad you shared it!
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I love the whole piece but that last line is so, so good!
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150 to 200 Moving Connecting Sets of eYes
ForAging ToGeTHeR DanCinG With Nature
After Survive Chores ArE DonE FoR NoW
Thrive then comes
Next.. Language
Written
Then Storing
GRain.. No Longer
Nomad.. then sitting still
As Tools Become Human
And Love beComes Silo of Grain
For What is Holy Comes First aS
Flesh And Blood Wild Free LoVE..:)
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Beautiful. XXXX All our histories. XXX
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Yes my FriEnd
Thanks as always
For your
Wonderful
Poetry
Of
Inspiration..:)
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a pilgrimage to the age of steam that built our nation – on these bones we stand today. An ingenious take on the theme and as a sucker for alliteration loved this line especially:
“Morpeth mopes amidst the mildewed mounds”
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Than you Laura. XX
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A fitting tribute to ground made holy by the sacrifice of those that lived there!
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