Another collective poem and video: Holymoorside

A new poem collectively written by the residents of Holymoorside and near neighbours. The poem emerged during the early days of the first lockdown, as an antidote to COVID blues. Some two-dozen people from 10 to 80+ took part. The video was filmed in the village towards the end of September.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZxVB_1iXV8

This is Our Village: Holymoorside

This is our village of a thousand things
with its sense of coming home
on to Holymoor Road, with the comforting rise. 
away from the bustle, then the fall,
that wonderful view, across the fields,
the churches right and left as you upwards go.

This is our village of a thousand things
Of cotton-mill hands & besom broom makers
Where horses & tractors rule the roads
Land of wild garlic & bluebell woods
Where there is peace, where worries fade 
A smile from my neighbour cheers my day
Where the bond of community is evergreen. 

This is our village of a thousand things
In which we all take every pride,
In the  August well-dressing,
Petals in clay, a festive display,
Grasses and flowers of every hue
While Nick gives God’s blessing
For every friend, for the old and the new.

This is our village of a thousand things
On Christmas Eve, at midnight mass
A loving community, contemplation and quiet.
The hushed still of  the night 
The waiting for the gift of the Christ child.
And now, the nation holds its breath,
Becalmed and longing to be set free.

This is our village of a thousand things,
Holymoorside, set between the Hipper and the hills,
The countryside; filled with nature, verdant, teeming.
A loving community all distance transcends,
That is steadfast and sure in these troublesome days
With deep-seated friendship we know never ends
That flourishes like the daffodils at Pocknedge end
And with love its fellowship will joyously blend.