A POETRY ANTHOLOGY

Collated by Words Count in North Lincolnshire

A POETRY ANTHOLOGY

In 2017 Ian McMillan – professional poet, journalist,

playwright and broadcaster made a special visit to

North Lincolnshire. During this visit he wrote a poem

about North Lincolnshire called 'Open the Book'.

In recognition of his gift to North Lincolnshire, we

invited people to take part in the Sense of Place poetry

competition. We had an overwhelming response,

recieving an array of incredible poems that truly

celebrate the best of North Lincolnshire.

Here is a collection of our winners poems.

We hope you enjoy reading them as much as we do.

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Contents

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Ian McMillanOpen the Book 4

Leanne GaziThe Place I Call Home 5

Joseph StanfieldA Poem About North Lincolnshire 7

Olivia KellyThe Past of Crowle Moors 9

Tony BallUntitled 10

Lily OdlinLincolnshire Through the Seasons 12

Isaac SidawayWaters’ Edge 14

Catriona HallowayA Place To Be 15

Daisy WilliamsonWooden Duchess 16

Evelyn NelsonMy Life in Lincolnshire 17

Alfie BorrillThe New Park 18

Briony DrewSteel and Snow 19

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Open the Book

© Ian McMillan

A full page as wide as a Lincolnshire sky

With birds flying through it; flocks of words

That settle in sentences and catch your eye

With images deep as a Lincolnshire sky.

A story as old as a Lincolnshire track

With tales walking down it; word-built trails

That carry you someplace, then bring you back

With memories long as a Lincolnshire track.

Open the book now and let’s all take flight

On reading’s strong wings to the narrative’s edge;

You soar with the paragraphs into the night

You don’t need a torch: a book is its own light.

A volume as vital as Lincolnshire air:

Breathe it all in and just read; yes, indeed

Reading can transport you from here to there

And flow through your life like the Lincolnshire air.

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The Place I Call Home

The place I call home

People often groan

There's nothing to do here; nothing to see

If they open their eyes

There's a world of possibility

Look past the rigid steel exterior

And search for the beauty inside

Behind the smoke and chimney's

Rabbits run wild and birds take flight

Foxes roam on through the night

The fields, the woodlands

Watch the deer run free

Across the fairway into the trees

A whole world of wonderment and nature

Just waiting to be seen

Kingsway, Twigmoor and Ashby Ville

Normanby Park and Alkborough’s maze on the hill

Take a walk down the mud tracks

Feel the leaves beneath your feet

Look up, look down

Let your eyes wander around

This is North Lincolnshire

And this is where we start

Leanne Gaziaged 30

Local music shows passion

With homegrown lyrics

The crowds chant a chorus

The echo around the room; the atmosphere

Their music was made here

Maybe in a kitchen

Or out back in a shed

The ideas, the knowledge

North Lincs brought inspiration to somebody's head

The good people do here

Even the people on tour

Lights and laughs in The Baths Hall

The memories held in its old walls

To the new auditorium that will bring even more

This is North Lincs

And this is where I grow

Maybe I’ll stay here

It’s the place I call home

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A Poem About North Lincolnshire

This is the place, we live right here,

In the jolly old county of North Lincolnshire,

Breath in the air, take in the sights,

As I name the many attractions, day until night,

So I’ll start with the boss, it’s a great privilege,

To tell you... of the mighty Humber Bridge!

As you drive along its stretch, it holds you up,

On duty all day, it never really stops,

It used to be the biggest, the biggest of its kind,

Standing on its structure, oh the beauty you will find,

As you gaze upon this giant, your legs will start to shiver,

As you suddenly look down, and see the Humber River!

All this and more, everything right here,

In the jolly old county of North Lincolnshire,

So you fancy a stroll, no need to remark,

When you have the many acres of Normanby Park!

Long walks and trails, ponds all so near,

And if you’re really, really lucky you might just find some deer!

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Joseph Stanfieldaged 13

There’s also a park, hence why the name,

So your children can adventure, its truly insane!

This is just a fraction, of the places right here,

In the jolly old county of North Lincolnshire!

So I’ll tell you one more, my favourite by far,

It’s a place where nature lurks, so I’ll finish my bar,

To hear the birds tweeting, oh look a water vole,

They’re simply so cute, they warm my very soul,

And there’s cameras all around, planted on a ledge,

They film animal’s lives, it has the name of WATERS EDGE!

So if you love nature, then this place is for you,

Migration, pollination, plus a sweet café too!

So these places I named, are ALL right here,

In the jolly old county of North Lincolnshire!

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The Past of Crowle Moors

I walk into the tranquil place

Branches in the way, like an obstacle race,

The streams trickle down underground,

The place is empty no-one around,

The eerie trees sway in the wind,

The animals all free and undisciplined,

All birds in flocks carried gently by the sky,

Very few people walk by.

The mud wet and mushy as if it were quicksand,

All litter, waste, and rubbish banned,

Peat trenches from a forgotten past,

Wooden fences that will not last,

Time stood still but moving on,

Summer days will soon be gone,

The bucolic view electric thoughts.

Olivia Kellyaged 11

You can see the sky in North Lincolnshire;

Take a look, it's glory savour.

Many sneer "That county' flat!"

So they miss it's wondrous flavour.

Flavour you can taste and feel

From agricultural strife;

Structured soil and drainage dyke;

Producing food, maintaining life.

Out on the coast we import coal

And oil from the ocean bed.

Further inland the best beef comes

From our ancient Lincoln Red.

Our Wolds, a gentle rolling hill,

Such views your heart apprize.

Our flowing rivers, grassy fields

And woods, decay despise.

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Tony Ballaged 57

Beyond the natural, out of scope

When England stood with little hope,

A slender chance so oft appeared

As men like Gibson flew from here.

(from Kirton, as well as Scampton)

The Great War's dreadnought warships

Built from industry still favoured;

The ironworks of which it's said

The heavens reflect our labours.

Yes, oft forgot by a modern lot

So raise a glass of Tom Woods beer

For it's past and present, it's future too,

Let's celebrate North Lincolnshire!

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Lincolnshire Through the Seasons

Spring...

Flowers are emerging through the Lincolnshire soil,

Elsham lambs are springing about.

Farming season is beginning again

When new crops are starting to sprout.

Birds warble in newly green trees,

Fish swim up Ancholme Valley streams.

Insects begin to reappear

And warm Lincolnshire sun starts to beam.

Summer...

Fields of luscious green

And eastern skies of endless blue.

Brigg Farmers Markets, Lincolnshire sausage

And nature's bright colours renewed.

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Lily Odlinaged 13

Autumn...

Big piles of gathered harvest crops

And warm traditional dinner.

As woodlands change their colour scheme

And branches on trees become thinner.

Bright red berries, country leaves.

It's the perfect time for a stroll,

In Hartsholme or Normanby parks

With fresh air that fills yours lungs whole.

Winter...

The temperature is getting lower.

The days were long, now short.

The Lincolnshire Wolds freeze over

With the chilly winds winter has brought.

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Waters’ Edge

Isaac Sidawayaged 9

The lush, clean river

The great, long Humber Bridge

The yellow young chicks come our for their food

At Waters’ Edge

The tall rustling reeds that tower over the edge of the pond

Rocks that cover the twisting, windy paths

The colourful flowers that wrap around the grey rocks

Long grass covers the bottom of the trees

Go inside, a creamy tea

Maybe not, a gift shop you and me

Go outside, stand on the pebbles

Turn the corner to the goat

Grab your binoculars, look over there

Sixteen acres of land full of wildlife

Birds up in each tree

Land full of sun at Waters’ Edge

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A Place To Be

Catriona Hallowayaged 30

Close your eyes and drift away,

This is a place to come and stay.

Places to visit and things to do

Shops, culture and history too.

A farming past with a tale to tell,

Endless landscape where wildlife dwell.

Museums that delve into the past,

Nature reserves where beauty lasts.

The Pink Pig Farm with lots to see,

A fine gatehouse named Thornton Abbey.

Theatres with performances galore,

An art gallery that goes on tour.

A train that takes us to the centre of steel,

Places where you can get a good meal.

Country parks with acres of land,

A skydive centre high in demand.

Lying in the shadow of the Humber Bridge,

Nearby water as cold as a fridge,

There are places here to relax and unwind

Or locations if you are the party kind.

So close your eyes and drift away

To our home we are proud to say.

A community for you and me,

North Lincolnshire the place to be.

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Wooden Duchess

Daisy Williamsonaged 13

In the sharp arc of an arrowhead moon

Her feet - like raindrops - stepped

Sent daggers through me, as blunt as a dune

And bullets made echoes as they crept.

(She was, like a duchess,

Of some other kind)

And - O! - how she moved,

Toward my heart, marooned

By the bitter swift passing of love

That I never spoke of; my head, no control of

The way things become with that - love.

But with that same power,

And time, filled an hour

Sweet thought became sour

Or cloying, at best

My duchess, my duchess

Whose sentiment strengthens;

Your memory is flippant,

Your loyalties distress.

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My Life in Lincolnshire

Evelyn Nelsonaged 8

Watching the sunset go down above the horizon,

flashing beams of light across the wolds.

Watching people walk their dogs,

the people are both young and old.

I sit up on the climbing frame,

my mum sits beside me,

we watch the sheep on the hills,

plodding about so calmly.

Here life is happy.

Alfie Borrillaged 11

There is a place I love,

A big playground,

With lots of swings, see-saws and other fun things.

My friends come sometimes and play there,

Grandad is waiting down below – away we go,

Standing up at the top, then coming down with a drop.

The basket swing is very fun,

It goes up and down, left and right,

On the trampoline you can do tricks.

The rocking roundabout, goes up and down,

And around and around,

So much it makes me dizzy.

Our new park is the best!

It’s so much better than all the rest.

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The New Park

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Briony Drewaged 7

The steaming hot Steelworks, is as smoky as a crackling fire.

The cold, chilly snow, is as shivering as a slushy maker.

Snow is falling down from the bright blue sky.

The warm, hot steelworks is redhot as a boiling, burning barbecue.

Icy floor is covered with some cold, soft snow.

The pretty, cosy snow is as soft as a fluffy, cute cat.

The noisy, busy steelworks is covered with cold, icy snow.

The cold, slushy snow is freezing as a brain freeze.

Steel and Snow