Hawkshead

No longer a draft - please comment

 

Hawkshead revisited.

 

Cross Windermere to Hawkshead on the car ferry – save miles of driving – but why? For they are beautiful miles, but then, so is the view along the lake from the boat. Step ashore. An English Pub Lunch with a pint of good ale and life seems good. Change step – lose the stroll and stride purposefully along the same lake in warm, golden afternoon sun under fresh Spring verdure both walk and poem take on another form as does the rhythm of the step which perhaps a sonnet best describes. 

I used to camp up here when I was a boy, sailed on the lakes and tarns and climbed the mountains as a young man. The English Lake District is only about 30 miles long and the same across, yet seems to contain all a place needs to be beautiful - lakes, mountains, moorland, forest, rivers and streams and of course wild-life. It has farming, old towns & villages and is mostly built out of local stone and slate. Its dry-stone walls are world famous. These keep in that toughest breed of sheep (in the wild that is – they’re tender and sweet on the plate), the Herdwick. It is the home country of Enid Blyton and Peter Rabbit and wonderfully described in the amazing guide books of Wainwright.  Some of the pictures I took in May are in my Photos Section. Please look at them and see something of what the poem tries to describe. The poem as first published was, as stated, in draft form. Many of you have, much to my delight, responded and I hope this now embodies the spirit of all your comments. I thank you all.  

 

Part 1,     Hawkshead, The Ditty

 

I crossed a lake upon a boat;

My! How I hoped that boat would float

It did, and on the other side,

Securely to the jetty tied

Was confident, without preamble

 Up a rocky bank to scramble

Then on the shore in time to ramble

Up and down a village street

On cobble-stones that hurt my feet

In Hawkshead, Lakeland village neat.

 

A pub – The Sun – then took my eye;

A pint! A pint!! - became my cry,

With ploughman’s lunch –

 Whose crusty crunch I gladly munch;

On freshest bread – it must be said,

With finest cheese on salad bed.

Aye! Cheese, crisp bread and strongest ale

With salad, pickle- they’ll not fail -

Our efforts over hill and dale.

 

We’ve finished now our crisp bread roll,

Our village lunch, our gentle stroll;

The rhythms of our footfall change

As we extend our walking range

And rising from our village seat

We change to five iambic feet.

The bank we tread with trees upon it

Our feet walk now to gentle sonnet:-

 

 

Part 2   Hawkshead – The Sonnet

 

So, now our feet keep time to different beat

Thus reinforced, our steps take to the road;

The sun ahead calls onward – no retreat,

And leads through beech and oak-wood’s green abode.

We stride the lakeside’s golden afternoon

To sample freshness on the moistened air;

Foot-feeling country’s beauty, Nature’s boon, 

Mind’s eye entranced such beauty to ensnare.

 

This wonder comes of wholesome, simple things

Just colours, scents, the form of wind-strewn cloud;

Such sense-delights as make the soul take wings,

Man’s inner voice, break out to shout aloud.

 

By using senses I – mere man – possess,

My joy in living gladly I confess.

 

            John L Berry, May 22, 2009

Author's Note

I have embodied some suggestions. I think it is improved - I hope you do to. Thank you all for yur interest.

Reviews

[Markymark]

Ahhh John. I have missed your creative genius. I think I would have preferred the straight sonnet for this piece. The ditty part adds an element of lightness which is what I think you were going for....but the added parts make the piece seem like two pieces juxtaposed between lines. Somehow the visual bounces from the inward parts of the thought processes of the writer to the beauty of the English countryside. Let me read it again. This is a deviation from your norm. I like the feel, love the idea and feelings conveyed so expertly, and cannot wait to read your final lines. I'm different from most....so other readers may completely disagree. This piece is begging to be a Shakespearian sonnet.

[E.J. Stevens]

This is pure genius. Such a wonderful idea and well done.

[Emily B]

I came back to read again. Pure pleasure. I enjoyed it so much!!! Lovely, lovely stroll.

[emmajoy]

Dear John,

few writers and poets can equal your work about places, their atmosphere and the emotions felt whilst visiting them. You paint cities, villages and panoramas alike with an extraordinary sweep of brush-stroked words and bring it all alive and there before the reader's eyes.

I know and love Cumbria, visited, walked, explored, so many times; with this post you've taken me back. There's a magic feel to the place, especially at dawn and dusk .. plus, glistening water by day, beautiful night star-filled skies. Even the rain - and there can be plenty of it .. can be wonderful!

As to your writing skill, you use words and phrases with such deftness .. a gentle sonnet indeed, ringing with careful metre. However, I have to admit that my very favourite part is your Hawlshead second verse. I'm pretty sure the Lakeland poets would have laughed, understanding the joie de vivre of a man like you!

Great and blissful write and, right to the core of the Lake District!

' This wonder comes of wholesome, simple things ~~ Just colours, scents, the form of wind-strewn cloud; ~~ Such sense-delights as make the soul take wings, ~~ Man's inner voice, break out to shout aloud. '

[Belator Books]

Impressive... the prelude is a poem in of itself. The familiarity and cherished paths come through well, and the rhymes do not appear cheesy in the least, but merely enhances the cheer and pleasantry of this piece. Nicely done. I felt a hankering to visit the place myself.

[R J Askew]

I know the place. Your pre-amble made me want to be there again, even as a sheep. It also made me think of Dove Cottage and Rydal (sp?) Mount. And a great stay with my family not that long ago at a nearby Youth Hostel.

There is great Englishness and gentleness in the way you appreciate and describe the moment in the first poem. The sonnet I love ... I like the 8/4/2 scheme and the pastoral theme is timeless, charming and calming to the spirit. I think this line captures the philosophy of the poem and the way you capture your appreciation of the place: 'This wonder comes of wholesome, simple things'. It is just so true and a truth we in our mad materialism forget. It is a key message of universal importance. And those who understand it and live by it are, I believe, the happier for it. It also recalls Wordsworth's 'plain lving and high thinking'. I will now treat myself to a peep at the photos.

[An owl on the moon]

You make everything sound so vividly alive and wonderful! One can see the lake, feel the cobblestones, taste the ale and bread, hear the echoes of your steps, and sense the lightness of such an adventure. You truly do inspire your readers to journey out among the wonders of their world. Such a joy to read!

[Emily B]

With all the senses I � mere man � possess,

I crave such beauty shall be more, not less.

This is how I want to live. Evoking the beauty of life in all things. What a wonderful summer ramble. . .

[J]

Ahhhhh, your poet heart does sing to mine!!! I do find the complete work a thrill and whimsey to the spirit! How I see brilliance in the shift in cadence, as the sun tires and casts her shadows long and more slowly with a tummy full and content from the day's express focus, let us now wonder on those pleasures that escape the frenzy of daylight's demands:

"With all the senses I � mere man � possess,/I crave such beauty shall be more, not less."

Perfection, my friend. As I say, you are a poet after my heart ........

j

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I thought this was brilliant my friend! It has a playful air and a humorous mood about it. It reminded me of the writing of the great Jonathan Swift and I cannot give much greater praise than that. I noticed that you change off the rhyme scheme near the end in a delightful mixture. Loved this!