Waterway poetry
Read a selection of waterway-related poetry or send in your own if you're feeling creative.
En route to Tixall Wide
From Hopwas wood near Tamworth town, one sunny August day,
We headed up the Coventry along towards Fradley way.
Through Whittington and Huddlesford our tranquil way we plied
To join the Trent and Mersey en route to Tixall Wide.
We’d done the journey many times, a favourite three-day trip,
Aboard the Colecraft narrowboat, our own beloved ‘ship.’
A ten-hour journey outward bound, with two days to retrace
Our weaving, winding water steps at barely walking pace.
By Streethay Wharf we filled the tank and joked with Ray and Pat,
Then hit the tiller once again the better for the chat.
We cruised beside then passed beneath the loud A38,
Within our floating palace at a pace much more sedate.
As Fradley Junction hove in sight, we scanned the side in hope,
Then grabbed the only mooring point and quickly heaved the rope.
We tossed a foaming pint or two, as only boaters can,
And joined the ‘Towpath Telegraph’ within the famous Swan.
With tiller aimed at Nottingham, the bow at Mersey Docks,
We passed the main gongoozling point and headed for the locks.
We viewed the pleasant countryside and drank our mugs of tea –
And nearly had a head-on crash, the one at fault was me.
Then on we went through Armitage, with Spode House to the west,
And anchored by the Ash Tree pub to sample Banks’s best.
The awesome towers to the east had been in sight for long,
And now their close proximity was hustling us along.
We crossed the river aqueduct and worried as we went,
To see young boys climb up the bridge and drop into the Trent.
The pleasant edge of Cannock Chase, approaching Colwich lock,
Returned us to a tranquil state from mild traumatic shock.
We trained our eyes on Shugborough, where sheep and cattle roam,
And there resplendent in the sun, Lord Lichfield’s Stately Home.
Then on we went through Haywood lock where, wonders never cease,
We found a boatman shipping out and helped him to release.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” is what is often said,
So Tixall Wide would have to wait until we’d been abed.
But not before our Chardonnay and chicken a la carte –
God help the one who dared suggest an early morning start.
Hugh McCallion
Bygone Era
There is a charm many fail to see.
A bygone era that many choose to ignore
Unseen by many the canal meanders
Secretive it’s passage through woods and towns.
Mowing machines whirring in the distance
A smell of new mown grass drifts across our bow
Along the towpaths dandelions and docks are sprouting into life.
Sunlight reflected on the breeze-ruffled water.
The towpath studded with trees
Casting long fingers of shadow across the waters surface.
Cherry blossom petals scattered like wedding confetti
Bees were busy, their humming mingled with the chirps of the birds.
This forgotten canal idles its way through pastures.
Fields of ridge and furrow line the twisting and turning of the canal.
Hedgerows cut into regimented shape, with bird song from their branches.
Cattle watch over the hedgerows as if spectators at a tennis match
A pair of swans sails on by with such grace and elegance.
The heron lifts into the air from its hidden spot on the bank,
The beat of its wings slow and yet graceful.
It’s gangly legs drifting on the breeze
The movement of our boat is like poetry in motion.
Sleek and majestic she glides through the water.
Old brick bridges stride the water, testaments to the past.
The tales they could tell if only they could talk.
There is no road that could be as quiet or as solitary as the cut.
Meandering its way with such charm. No hurrying in mind.
True appreciation can only be had if you to come and sample its charm.
It is a bygone era, which many will never see.
Jo Lodge
My mountain bike (called ‘Silver’), and me
I love it when we’re free
My mountain bike and me.
I head for our canal
On my own or with a pal.
What’s the beauty? What’s the thrill?
Well, canals don’t go up hill.
So you’re riding on the flat
And there’s nothing hard in that.
And yes it takes a while
To ride for thirty mile.
And yes I have a rest
When going east or west.
The canal’s the place for me
That’s where I like to be.
There’s barges painted bright
Men fish from dawn till night.
Who cares about the time
When cycling in sunshine?
No licence, tax or test
Just jeans and boots and vest.
I’ve really got the bug
It’s almost like a drug
I’ve also got the chance
To dream it’s Tour de France.
Not cycling ‘cause I’m sad
Or trying to fight the flab.
If you want to know the truth
It reminds me of my youth.
Us kids went out all day
Not worried or scared to play.
Outdoors was the place for fun
Respect for everyone.
With sounds of birds in song
I ride and travel on.
There’s ducks and geese and fish
To me all this is bliss.
My silver bike and me
Have always lots to see.
But what’s the greatest sight?
There’s not one traffic light.
There are no parking fines
Or double yellow lines.
There is no traffic queue
Collisions very few.
No digging up the ground
As road works can’t be found.
No need for traffic cone
Or hands-free telephone.
In all it’s really nice
A motorist's paradise.
But here’s the cruellest laugh
Cars can’t go on the path.
That thought has made my day
So this is all I’ll say
High-ho Silver…away.
Geoff Williams
Montgomery Canal Dinghy Dawdle
What's a Dinghy Dawdle?
You may just like to know
It's a fun event for boaters
The Montgomery Canal on show.
This year it's near to Newtown
As far as you can go
Highlighting the problem of access
As long as you can row!
The 7th June, the date to note
For all boats light to carry
Road crossings and three locks to wind
There's no rush, you can tarry.
Enjoy the beautiful location
Walkers welcome to join in
Lots of new seats to rest those legs
Reach Newhouse Lock for din.
More details on the website
With boats that are for loan
A day that you'll remember
But your arms, they will have grown!
Freda Davies, Friends of the Montgomery Canal
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