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The Winner of ‘One Poem for Teesdale’ is …

September 26, 2013

… not one but two poems have been chosen by visitors to NeST gallery in Barnard Castle as the ‘One Poem for Teesdale.’
The brief was to write a poem which expresses the history, landscape and culture of the area.
Both of the selected poems were inspired by the flow of the river Tees through the dale.
Both are by poets who normally write for friends and family for birthday celebrations etc.
The two winning poems are Teesdale by Rosemary Weet and Teesdale – A Special Place To Be by Hazel Yeadon.
Both poems are reproduced below with permission from the authors who retain the copyright.
They are in alphabetical surname order so that you can decide which appeals to you most.
Teesdale by Rosemary Weet:
Carved by aeons of snow and ice
It’s scenic beauty beyond all price
This lovely dale owes its life and soul
To the River Tees unending roll.

From bleak Cross Fell, through sodden peat
The infant Tees runs on to meet
A lake formed by its constant flow
Restricted by the dam below.

Farms and hamlets lie beneath,
Its waters acting as a wreath
In memory of a life now gone,
When to survive was so hard won.

Here at the dam, the Tees is shamed
Its great strength through a pipe is tamed.
Then free once more, it surges out
And flings itself o’er Cauldron Snout.

At Falcon Clints, where eagles flew,
The Maize beck adds its current too
And thus combined, the waters swell
Beneath the looming Cronkley fell.

From Widdybank the fields are green
And many Arctic flowers are seen,
Reminders of much colder weather.
The stands of juniper and heather.

At great High Force the river falls
With thunderous roar ‘tween whin sill walls.
From here the pace begins to slow
Small islands part the water’s flow.

Low Force is pleasant, it’s waters cool.
Bubbles form on the upper pool
Silver lit by sun’s midday rays
Which form a rainbow in the spray.

And so to Middleton at last,
Capital of lead mining’s past.
Now tourists can enjoy their stay
Whilst walking on the Pennine Way.

So though the river still goes on,
‘Til land is past and sea is won.
I know that here I’ll take my ease,
By ancient, constant, lovely Tees.

Teesdale – A Special Place To Be by Hazel Yeadon
From high up on the moorland,
Down the river teemed,
Once a mighty roller,
Before man intervened.

Tumbling over Whin Sill rocks,
Causing impressive falls,
Gliding slowly through woodland,
Passing dry stone walls.

Down it travelled through the years,
Vikings and Richard the Third,
Churches, abbeys and castles,
Leaving the historic word.

Seasons are etched on faces,
Whether cold or sunny days,
Locals meeting at markets,
All very set in their ways.

Winters create many problems,
Often with snow on the ground,
Farmers are facing hard times,
Sheep cannot be found.

Springtime bursts upon us,
When green is all around,
Including Hannah’s Meadow,
Where all wild flowers abound.

Summer brings its trials,
Hoping it doesn’t rain,
Tractors frustrate motorists,
There are shows and fetes again.

Autumn days are chilly,
But with glorious, rustic trees,
Open fires start smoking,
Leaving trails on the breeze.

Through the river passes,
Flowing down to the sea,
Leaving behind Teesdale,
A special place to be.

Both poems will be featured on Radio Teesdale’s book programme this evening for those of you who prefer to listen rather than read.


From → Poetry

  1. Doreen permalink

    Two worthy winners, I will tune in for their readings.

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