Poem for Robson Green
Stephen Lunn with Robson Green Picture by ITV
In the land of Northumberland
High up on the Cheviot Hills
Looking down to the coast
Every Northumbrian loves to boast
Auction marts an ancient way of land
Piped music all around
With terriers led by rope, strange
thing that, us northern folk
Ospreys soaring around looking
down on this wonderful land
The salmon leap to catch the mayfly in the evening setting sun
Where it lies down behind the Cheviot Hills
In the morning the sun will rise
To reveal our Northumbrian coast
Beaches you just love to roam
Where the Anglo Saxons had their home –
Doing the same as us
Rock pooling just for fun
Tall ships, fishing boats and pleasure crafts
Play in the sea next to you and me
Artists capture time capsules of light and dark
The film crew has not a wide enough lens
To show this wonderful land
He can only glimpse and tease you
As every mile has its canny fork
What’s this combine asleep in the field
Beer brewed in that shed
Glass fused to give coloured light
Why I can go on all night
But my blacksmiths shop beckons me
All black and dirty
Where no computer can go
Delicate artwork blossoms and grows
Mermaids, fish, trees and birds
Seaweed entwined wrapped around rope
All of these things forged hot from the fire
Cooled down for Northumberland to admire.
By Stephen Lunn – written for Robson Green and “Further Tales of Northumberland” March 2016
