I’m the bridge of two rivers
The Severn and Wye
I’m seen from a distance
My two towers in the sky.
I’m the bridge of two countries
England and Wales
Offering a gateway
To many new trails.
I’m the bridge of two pathways
For feet and pedaled wheel
Most know only of one
From England right they peel.
I’m the bridge with two views
Not enjoyed from the M48
But you who can stop
Please do contemplate.
I’m the bridge of bygone fission
Easily visible as you ride
Oldbury Nuclear Station
Lying just beneath one side.
I’m the bridge of destinations
For pedalers to explore
Chepstow as a first stop
Right through Wales’ door.
I’m the bridge to border country
Wales and England you can weave
A glorious descent of Wye Valley
Comes before Brockweir heave.
I’m the bridge of many moods
I can be sunny, calm and serene
But given my position
My fogs and winds are mean.
I’m the bridge with two gates
One in England, one in Wales
Don’t get trapped on the ‘wrong’ side
Because they can be shut in gales.
I’m the bridge with listed status
Whose cables were feeling pain
So now my younger sibling
Relieves me of some strain.
I’m the bridge of two bridges
The Severn and the Wye
But most think we’re one
So invisible is our tie.
Severn Beach has history Once Blackpool of the West Only ghostly echoes now remain As commuters build their nest Shirley’s Cafe near the shore Mug of coffee from an urn Silent juke-box in the corner The turntable doesn’t turn Giant slab of fruit cake Adds to energy store At value-for-money prices That tempts you into more Then visit near empty promenade See Severn Bridges in the sky Then listen to that whisper Of past’s fast-fading cry.
[To listen to this verse select below]
Version 2
……. Severn Beach has history. Once Blackpool of the West. Only ghostly echoes now remain, as commuters build their nest. Shirley’s Cafe near the shore, draws boiling water from an urn. Silent jukebox in the corner. The turntable doesn’t turn. Stop at the bakery near the steps, where the Blue Lagoon once lay. Now just imagine the background, of excited populous at play. Visit the near empty promenade. See Severn Bridges in the sky. Then listen to the whisper, of the past’s fast fading cry.
[To listen to this verse select below]
Version 3
……. Severn Beach has history. Once Blackpool of the West. Only ghostly echoes now remain, as commuters build their nest. Shirley’s Cafe near the shore, draws boiling water from an urn. Silent jukebox in the corner. The turntable doesn’t turn. Stop at the bakery near the steps, where the Blue Lagoon once lay. Imagine now the hubbub, of excited populous at play. Visit the near empty promenade. See Severn Bridges in the sky. Then listen to the whisper, of the past’s fast fading cry.
[To listen to this verse select below]
Severn Beach
by
Derek Morrison
Severn Beach village was one of the micro ‘beach’ resorts that sprung up in the early 20th century to provide accessible venues for the British working class to spend their holidays or weekends. A local railway station would boost such developments. Anticipating the extension of the railway from Avonmouth docks in 1924, what had once been no more than a farm on the muddy banks of the Severn Estuary was, in 1922, transformed into a ‘seaside’ resort complete with the Blue Lagoon swimming pool, boating lake, amusements, less restrictive alcohol licensing laws than nearby Bristol – oh – and a strip club. Some wit of the past, apparently with an inclination for hyperbole, dubbed it the Blackpool of the West.
The tone of this short multimedia work attempts to convey the pathos associated with a visit to a largely forgotten landscape and history. It’s knowledge of this past which makes a visit to Severn Beach today so worthwhile. On the surface, it’s just another village on the outskirts of Bristol but, yet, walk a few yards off its main street, and you are on the banks of the Severn Estuary where the echoes of that history still reverberate. Amplify those echoes and wallow in the ambience of Shirley’s Cafe which still provides the sort of unpretentious but good food that existed before quasi bistros and gastro-pubs. If you are more a take-away person then Down’s Bakery can provide the fuel for that walk along the Severn Path.
Severn Beach, pathos, yes. But perhaps also an oasis.