Poem of Frome – March 2017

August 8, 2017

Frome 2Yesterday was one of those days when life seems to turn a full circle; back with the first taste I had of Frome from Innox Hill five years ago; that very motherly sense when time is bending down, picking you up and setting you back on the road with a fresh view. So comes forth Poem of Frome, another attempt to track a journey 🙂

Poem of Frome

River-like, life moves
Not in lines but folds,
Waves, slowly backing
Then fair, fine, brisk flow
Forward, reaching spring
From freeze to melt and quench.

Frome’s full cycle
I have ridden and walked,
Her web of inward-circling
Old roads, and found fresh
New feet, fellow pilgrims
From dip to crest and wash.

By sound of watery weir
Rushing its changing way,
Quarry train rumbles
A belly of grit undone,
And we swallow the hard
From lock to tongue and sea.

Leaping from tawny wall
To river’s mud and stick,
Red breast colours and leaves
Our winters, just as blue tit
Blends our summers soft
From myth to real and song.

Then there’s the dance,
The never-forgotten circle
Where we moved and seen,
Were held and heard, tipping
To foot’s fall, arm’s reach,
From skin to view and free.

*The name Frome comes from the Brythonic word *frāmā (Modern Welsh ffraw)[7] meaning fair, fine or brisk and describing the flow of the river.

 

Frome 3

Frome 5

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