Snowy
adventures in guerilla poetry today, this time in Essex. Initially
slightly irked that we were visiting a church on my only day off
from Church, I was soon taken with the little Log Church at Greensted,
otherwise known as Greensted Church or St.Andrew's, it's the oldest
wooden church in the world and the oldest standing wooden building in
Europe (www.greenstedchurch.org.uk)
. Somehow during our journey from Hackney we missed the snow falling in
Essex and then whilst in Essex missed the considerable snow fall we
found on returning home. On entering the church we were met by three
friendly fellows sheltering from the snow and fully equipped with
sarnies and flask of coffee and as is so often the case in Essex, we
discovered that we shared knowledege of Hackney at various seasons of
its life. We then went on a walk in the cold white landscape, all
made very bright and beautiful by the frozen crystals lying all around. A field of geese was a real treat as were the blue black sloes whose taste had been tamed by the frost. Too cold to write poetry in these places, so exhilarating walk over, we went to Ashlings Farm where warmed by soup and the festive cheer of parties having their Christmas lunches we found some inspiration and the results are below. Greensted
Cold sun shines on a low white land The snow sparkling with shreds of ice. On bushes stripped of leaves Bright berries still shine I taste the bitterness, but also, In frost-chaffed flesh, a surprising sweetness. In a church older than I can imagine, Dark and warm with ancient wood, We talk with three men and a Methodist Finding respite from sudden cold. May I taste here the sweetness in the bitterness The warmth in the cold, the beauty in the dying. by James Ashdown Ancient OaksAncient oaks and swollen sloes bedecked in sparkling white the gentle sun and frozen earth add beauty to the scene Midst winter barns and trampolines the ancient spire stands clear a homely place, with Hackney crew warm coffee, Christmas cheer Honey, tea towels, local jams please buy them while you're here and come and join us if you can the manchild is due near By Lucyann Ashdown |