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Poetry inspired by the Cornish landscape - Page 4
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Featured poets Clies Stevens, Louise James, Ronnie Goodyear, Penny Lally, Peter Hambly, Rachel McKluskey, Les Merton
Poetry by Les Merton from Redruth in Cornwall
Biography
Les
Merton is the editor of
Poetry Cornwall/Bardhonyeth Kernow and the author of several
books. His latest book,
Oall Rite Me Ansum, is published by Countryside Books of
Newbury and is a salute to the Cornish dialect. He as a new poetry
collection as yesterday
begins being published by bluechrome of
Les lives in Redruth Cornwall
QUOITS
Les Merton
'A
little house raised of mighty stones,
standing on a little hill within a field.'
John Norden 1584.
Bare granite bones
weathered by time,
a giant's table - a druid's altar.
The megalithic sepulchre.
Wind blows through these chambers,
over centuries it robbed them
of their earth cover.
The same wind whispers these names;
Zennor Mulfra Pawton Lanyon
Carwynnen Chun Sperris Trethevy
and hides all their secrets.
In the presence of a standing stone
Les Merton
As maidens they cast pins and needles
into the water of a holy well to discover
their fate in the brightness of bubbles.
Now in the presence of a standing stone
they reminisce - memories blur time,
myth, magic and spirit of place into one.
The tranquillity of clay mountains
are a perfect back-drop for the sound
of Corn Gwlas and the cry for peace.
St Michael's Chapel frame growing
romantically out of the Rock
is a pivot for imagination.
Its cell was the hermitage of a leper
who was tended to by his
daughter,
Gundred, with daily food and
water.
Tregeagle, giant of myth, howled
for sanctuary at the chapel
window
when pursued by Devil's hounds.
In summer there were picnics out Rock
when you could watch our choughs
and be uplifted by the spirit of Arthur.
And the children couldn't get enough
of mopp-and-hideaway among
boulders
in a park that twins fantasy and nature.
Les Merton
Corn Gwlas - The Horn of the Nation
tended to - looked after
mopp-and hideaway - hide and seek
A dance of rings,
the ultimate sacrifice-
pulsates in stone
like life in the womb.
An unwritten epitaph
for metamorphosed maidens.
Les Merton
(Legend says,
'Maidens who danced on
the Sabbath were turned
to stone for their sin.')
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