Friday, 14 April 2017

Poetry Friday 41

Poetry Friday 41.  
Just two this week, and I think they don’t need much introduction.
For audio click here

On losing an icon.
Did our mothers shed a tear
when they tore down the dancehalls
and turned the milk bars into Wimpys?

Did our fathers fail to keep their upper lips stiff
when the old dog track
became a supermarket?

I know my sister cried
when the roller disco was boarded up
and she could roll no more.

Will our daughters lament
when the last branch of Starbucks
closes its door?

Or our sons snivel
when they break out of the escape rooms
for the very last time?

So, throw up your arms in despair
as they shut down the places
where we play.

Sing protest songs
as they replace our venues with
luxury flats and budget hotels.

Shed your tears, and shout your protests
but remember this.
‘Twas ever thus.

Severn Tunnel Junction
Severn Tunnel Junction.
Where Saint Peter stands 
to welcome you into heaven 
on earth. 
No razzmatazz, no fanfare,
not even a sign that says ‘Welcome to Wales’. 
But a feeling in my... 
where is that feeling?
In my heart? My soul? My Welshness. 
A feeling that says
Welcome home, bach. 

Thank you for tuning in. Poetry Friday will return next week.

Have a good weekend.


  1. Thought-provoking Good Friday... and had to use the dictionary for 'razzmatazz' and 'bach'. Looking forward to Monday

  2. I cry, have both lips stiff and throw up my arms in despair whenever I go along any street in my town:-(.

  3. Is that what Severn Tunnel Junction really looks like???
    Having read your poem I somehow imagined it is a very beautiful place:-)

    1. Sorry this comment ended up in spam. yep that's severn tunnel junction, the gateway to wales so a very beautiful place. :-)