This was a poem I wrote for the 2022 Axbridge Pageant for the script but in the end it wasn’t included due to space and the demands of the drama’s construction.
Will you come gather,
Cornflowers and lavender?
Hazelnuts and blackberries,
And sweet juicy strawberries?
We’ll hook down the sloes,
Where the dark rhynes do flow,
Take fruit from the apple tree,
And honey from the honey bee.
We’ll splash in the clay pits,
And frighten the linnets,
Scratch our bare knees,
In brambles and trees.
And gather bunches of pinks,
On high Mendip ridge,
Buttercups and rosehips,
In the hedges of Axbridge
And give them to mother,
Aunty and brother,
From the places we roam,
In our blue lias homes.
Celtic, Roman, Tudor, Dane
Saxon, Norman, Worker, Thane
Soldier, Teacher, Farmer, Maid
Servant, Landlord, Mistress, Slave
Mother, Father, Cousin, Bride
Ancient, Baby, Adult, Child
We are Axbridge first and last
We are the future, the present and the past.
In August sun and winter’s cold
In pageantry our stories are re-told,
Of charters, battles and tragedies,
Blackberry fairs, plays of mysteries
We are Axbridge first and last,
We are the future, the present and the past,
Working the hours from dawn to dusk,
Out in the fields burning up a thirst,
Serving in the shop, answering the phone
Or delivering the mail to the nursing home.
We are Axbridge first and last,
We are the future, the present and the past,
We are the people of this town,
Many generations, we are proud,
Uncle, niece, aunt and cousin
Father, daughter, Mother, son.
Celtic, Roman, Tudor, Dane
Saxon, Norman, Worker, Thane
Soldier, Teacher, Farmer, Maid
Servant, Landlord, Mistress, Slave
Mother, Father, Cousin, Bride
Ancient, Baby, Adult, Child
We are Axbridge first and last
We are the future, the present and the past.
Harry Mottram
Picture by Tim Chard