This poem I wrote, inspired by St. Nectan’s Glen in Cornwall. It’s a poetry video, containing photos I personally took within the three visits I’ve been there, and the music is me on the guitar (after many years of hiatus). This is another aspect of music and poetry I want to try, so I’m hoping to get back into guitar playing and improve so I can create higher quality music for the poetry.
We’re setting up the spare bedroom as a mini-office/studio, with the computer and audio equipment set-up, as well as the guitar amp (I have a hybrid, it’s a classical sounding guitar but with an amp capacity). It might take a while for me to get better with it, so I hope you guys can offer some useful feedback 🙂
Anyway, here’s the video, and the poem in written form below.
21:12 St. Nectan’s Glen
A steep descent leading to a haven
hidden, unknown, unappreciated
by most. The crisp, cold air
softens from the moisture of
promises, a gentle spray coating
bodies in a thin but
comforting layer.
Open out into a space of enchantment,
breath pausing at the pressure, the presence,
the sense of something special.
Many come to pay tribute,
an item of memory in their hand.
Choose a sturdy tree branch
and dangle an angel over the water,
tie ribbons of colour to remember,
announcing your unending
loyalty to those who are gone.
Stack up stones as a
guide for the dead,
Cairins leading unsettled spirits
to the powerful, contained waterfall.
The noise is endless, muffling reality
as you explore and marvel at
all those who came before,
carrying a story.
A copper tree mutated by wishes
has shared the inflictor’s pain
over-and-over, loss of flesh,
loss of ground and growth.
The powerful pressure draws
wanderers near, both dead and alive.
Waddle, dignity forgotten, towards
the water’s fall, clear and beautiful,
coating all in protection
as they gaze into the hypnotic eye
that speaks of worlds beyond.
Follow the water’s path,
lost souls, be carried down
streams of memories and to
the open sea.
Scribbled Thoughts 