Pilgrimage in a post-industrial landscape.

 

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.

Author: alisonhankinson

I am a school teacher and a mum and a red cosmic skywalker, and sometimes a netball coach...but beneath it all I am a writer...

20 thoughts on “Pilgrimage in a post-industrial landscape.”

  1. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. 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!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 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..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  4. 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”

    Liked by 1 person

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