Poetry

The Forest Of Dean Freeminer

Freedom, a pit in which you haul

your hopes, while dragging doubts, you stoop and crawl.

Heavy the load which buys your bread,

this day is lived, you leave your fears behind you.

Sixteen candles mark the hours, aflame,

Eyes sting, so tired you could forget your name.

With grime ingrained in each pore of your skin,

the black day gone, black night yet to begin.

A year and a day of toiling gained

your birthright, raw, stained by your labour’s pain.

Caged, your descent in captivity,

through flickering light, you see your days through dust.

Your path is hewn by each bite of your blade,

On hands and knees, ascent to manhood’s made,

Caged your rise to evening’s welcome peace,

When sleep’s dark mantle wraps your rest’s release.

Danger echoes through the rhymes

of rhythmic, axe-rung rhymes which toll through time.

Deftly unpicking mineral seams,

you strive to follow dreams you load on drams.

Each Sabbath’s sun ignites light in your eyes,

turning from black to gold, your hard-won prize.

Freedom, your right to earn a chance to be

more than the servant of your liberty.

{c} Catherine Hamilton 2001

Note

What is a “Freeminer”?

“All male persons born or hereafter to be born and abiding within the said Hundred of St Briavels of the age of twenty one years and upwards, who shall have worked a year and a day in a coal or iron mine within the said Hundred of St Briavels, shall be deemed and taken to be Free Miners.” the Dean Forest (Mines) Act 1838.

The ancient district, known as the “Hundred of St Briavels”, has generally been considered to be the whole of the area of the Forest of Dean in the South of England, bordering Wales and each parish adjoining it. And, as of 2010, women as well as men are able to be recognised as Freeminers.

There are probably still around 150 Freeminers today, only one of which is female, although only a handful of collieries mining coal, iron and ochre, a yellow coloured mineral used in dyes and paints, are still operating. Due the closure of maternity hospital facilities at the Dilke Hospital, it has become unusual to be born within the “Hundred of St Briavels”.

Despite the modest level of activity, some Freemines do operate successfully, especially through diversification into non-traditional areas such as tourism and ochre mining. Freemining continues to be an important aspect of Forest of Dean culture and an important part of local identity.

In the days before electrically powered light, the miners worked in candelight and on average used 16 candles a day to illuminate their mining activities, descending to the mineral containing seams in a cage-lift and loading the minerals they extracted into carts called “drams” to take up to the surface. In the winter months, they would go to work in the dark and return home in the dark, working all day in the darkness beneath the surface and Sunday was the only time they saw daylight. It was a hard life but they were masters of their own labours and in their own hands lay their ability to prosper or otherwise.

Villanelle For A Veteran On The 80th Anniversary Of D-Day

On beaches Allied sea-soaked boots dared tread,

Though eighty years since D-Day’s darkened dawn,

With those remaining Few, parade The Dead.

With whispers of that slaughter, silence-spread,

Veterans land again, their medals worn

On beaches Allied sea-soaked boots dared tread.

The tide around them thickening, blood-red.

Staining souls as flesh by fire was torn,

With those remaining few, parade The Dead.

Through waves of war, by courage, they were led.

In fear and pain, our hope of peace was born

On beaches Allied sea-soaked boots dared tread.

Their legacy by sacrifice was fed.

Remember those whom honour does adorn.

With those remaining Few, parade, The Dead.

Pride damns fast those tears which are unshed,

Unmentioned, bleed raw wounds, forever worn

On beaches Allied sea-soaked boots dared tread.

With those remaining Few, parade The Dead.

Safe Harbour

From shadows where my fears reside

and trauma writhes, a churning storm,

I’d seek safe harbour, heart untied.

My trust I’d anchor in life’s tide

with hope, I’d reach and breach that veil

of shadows where my fears reside.

I’d speak aloud to turn the tide,

Would lean on faith when doubts assail

and seek safe harbour, heart untied

to tend the wounds internalized,

heal damage that has made me frail

in shadows where my fears reside.

At last, in shedding tears uncried

my comforts found in truths travail

and that safe harbour, heart untied.

If in myself I can confide,

Prevailing courage will set sail.

From shadows where my fears reside

I’ll quit my harbour, heart untied.

Race The Sun – Autumn Equinox in la Hougue Bie Passage Grave.

Race the sun and celebrate the light

surging through cold stone at break of day.

Seize fast that force which flings stars into flight.

Though equinoctial scales tip towards night

and coming winter’s gloom will soon hold sway,

race the sun and celebrate the light.

Ascending Helios, flames furnace-bright

illuminating rocks beneath its ray,

Seize fast that force which flings stars into flight.

Grasp infinity past mortal sight

as darkening days do not our faith betray.

Seize fast that force which flings stars into flight.

Generations pass, yet all recite

that hymn to life, identical today.

All race the sun and celebrate the light

and seize that force which flings stars into flight.

Never High Enough

memory murmurs with the rising moon.

The sleep of day dissolves beneath her light

which laps about my toes and pools in tears.

Why resist the rising flood of dreams?

I knew your touch before I saw your face.

I knew your words before I knew your name.

I knew your soul as if it were my own.

I knew our end before we had begun.

You sank your razored words into my mind.

You fed me with the passion of desire.

You turned me into “Us” and I to “We”.

You took my hand and showed me evermore.

The full moon’s face shines stark in winter skies

and muses on the lives that wax and wane

beneath her troubled inconsistency,

tossed on her trembling tides.

Oh, how we spiralled to the shattering Stars,

Cascading as our brilliance dashed their own,

And how we soared and danced above the Sun

And bathed our wishes in the Milky Way

And if we truly burned in our our flame,

And love consumed her own, reducing all

into a pile of ash, how could we not

await the certain rising of a Phoenix?

Even now, you breathe my breath and speak my words,

And I still feel your heart beat in my own,

A twitch upon a spiders web, so fine,

yet still as strong as steel, still makes me reel.

To fall into your darkness is to rise

into hellish impossibility,

Yet no depth too deep not height too high,

And Paradise was never high enough….

For Us.

TRADITIONAL TALES TOLD IN VERSE

THE LEGEND OF FALCON’S RISE

To the West, the beaches slide

Beneath the cliffs where Falcons glide,

No effort make these birds to ride

The updrafts far above the tide

So deep and crystal clear.

They spiral upwards as they soar,

Each moment higher than before,

Defying every natural law

Which all Earth~bound might fear.

Where rocky outcrops cast their shade,

Two children watch the Falcons fade

Into the blue as they evade

The eyes of those who would invade

Their Kingdom of the air.

Theirs is the liberty of flight,

Soaring above human sight,

Dissolving in the brilliant light,

Safe ~ and far from care.

The children let their tale unfold,

Though many times it has been told

The magic always takes it’s hold~

Of brutal anger, fierce and cold,

Of True Love triumphing once more.

Retold again now, word by word,

The story they have often heard,

The tragedy again is stirred

And rises as before.

A girl of Noble birth was she,

Whilst he was born o poverty

But both knew the severity

Of rules set by each family

To govern each one’s Fate.

To marry would mean deep disgrace

for her ~ but neither one could face

A life where nothing could replace

A love which was so great.

And so, upon a Dark Mooned night

The Lovers rose and took their flight.

They travelled until morning light

Revealed their absence, but their plight

No mercy met but malice.

Their followers drew close in hate.

The pair could not outrun their fate,

They realised, but far too late

They’d reached a precipice.

So hands held fast in wordless prayer

They ran from every shout and glare

Towards the brink of their despair~

They leapt and fell through empty air

Into Eternity.

Those who pursued drew to the edge

To peer from the cliff’s broken ledge,

But the Lovers’ final pledge

to die, was not to be.

They jumped in faith into the blue

And as they disappeared from view

Of those they’d known, who never knew

The strength of Trust when it is True

And all fear can displace,

Transformed were they by Love alone,

(For Love does not forsake Her Own)

To Falcons, who since then have flown,

Hunters in their own space.

Beneath the rocky outcrop’s shade,

The children watch the Falcons fade

Into the blue as they evade

The eyes of those who’d still invade

Their Kingdom of the air.

Theirs is the Liberty of flight,

Soaring beyond human sight,

Dissolving the the brilliant light,

Forever free from care.

Note:

Inspired by the Peregine Falcons who ride the air around the cliff known as Symmonds Yat in The Forest of Dean.

LADY OF THE AUBURN HAIR

Where waters whirl and whisper

And drowsing dappled shade

Lies languidly upon the grass

And colours softly fade,

He led his mare to water,

He watched her drinking long,

Ears flicking to the sighing

Of the river’s ceaseless song ~

Flowing endlessly

Thoughts would ever be

Tangled timelessly

Intertwined as leaves in Auburn Hair.

He let his mare graze quietly,

He lay beneath the trees,

In sultry warmth of eventide

Did man and beast take ease.

He slept awhile and waking,

The river’s murmuring

Sank beneath a sweeter voice

Which liltingly did sing~

Melting melodies

Haunting harmonies,

Feeding fantasies

Cascading down as silky Auburn Hair.

Upon one arm he raised himself

And saw her as she came,

Golden through the shadows,

Her Auburn Hair aflame.

She did not see him watch her

As she let fall her gown

And loosed the hair from plaited braids

Worn as a living crown~

Stepping gracefully,

Slowly, sinuously

Sinking soundlessly

As water lifted waves of Auburn Hair.

Without a word he gazed upon her,

Watching as she bathed.

She rose out of the river,

Her white shoulders enswathed

In her darkly dripping mantle

Of clinging, soaking Hair,

While droplets scattered pearl~like

Upon her skin so fair~

Watching motionlessly,

Seeing silently

Knowing certainly

He loved and must possess her ~ “Auburn Hair”.

She drew her gown about her

She twisted up her Hair,

All the while her quiet singing

Softly filled the air

She turned to take the pathway

And there she saw him stand

And bow before her begging her

To know and understand~

Unhesitatingly

Would she ever be

Loved eternally,

He fell before the One with Auburn Hair.

She took his hand and raised him,

Their fate sealed in this hour.

The love sprung there would flourish,

Would blossom and would flower.

But passion knows a darkness

Innocence does not see,

Total was his obsession

Complete, his jealousy~

Loved absolutely

Possessed completely

This their destiny

He and His Lady of the Auburn Hair.

He left her then that evening

He promised to return

He swore he loved her truly

Their flame would ever burn.

Long the hours when parted

From her, he could not bear

To wait until the evening

When he would meet her there~

Sitting patiently

Watching hopefully

She would early be

He waited for his love, for Auburn Hair.

She walked beneath the shadows,

Another at her side

Her tender kiss upon strange lips

He just could not abide.

He drew his sword, he slew them both

As one in their embrace

And cried into the emptiness

His curse in Heaven’s face~

Wretched misery

Screamed in agony

This the treachery

Of his Love, the One with Auburn Hair.

Upon his knees he knelt there,

He knew not for how long.

His face was buried in his hands

When the first notes of song

Came floating through the evening

To fall upon his ears,

It froze him there in horror

It gripped him with dark fears~

Melting melodies

Haunting harmonies

Coming faithfully

Down the path, his Love, his Auburn Hair.

She fell beside the body,

Her sister’s bloodstained hair

She brushed back from her lifeless face.

The cold unseeing stare

Of her own eyes looked back at her,

Identical the two!

He looked upon her blamelessness,

The innocence he slew~

Both shone faultlessly

Pure and guiltless she,

She his love, his grieving Auburn Hair.

She seized his dagger from him

Though desperately he lunged

He could not stay her hand

And deep into her breast she plunged

The blade, then sank beside her twin

To take her final breath.

He gazed in horror, at his hand

Had Innocence met Death~

Falling helplessly

Screaming soundlessly

Waking suddenly

From his nightmare bound in Auburn Hair.

He lay upon his back

Watching his mare graze at his side.

The shadows stretched across him,

As fell the Eventide.

He listened to the river

It seemed that murmuring

Sank beneath a sweeter voice

Which he heard softly sing~

Melting melodies

Haunting Harmonies

Feeding fantasies

Cascading down like flowing Auburn Hair