A Model Town poem
Items in this story:
A Model Town
There’s a quiet, calm breeze where we’re standing in the school yard,
whooshing leaves on the trees and rainbows dancing in the sky.
Far away we see fields and hills like lime green jigsaw pieces stuck together
dark green, silky green, turquoise green, emerald green.
We turn towards the town and walk down Water Street,
swimming, diving, flowing towards Catherine Street,
following in the steps of the drovers and the chattering geese
walking through tar and sand, making little shoes to walk to market far away.
We’ll stop at the amphitheatre – we have tickets!
We’re going to see the gladiators fighting brutally – we’re going to go crazy,
pulling silly faces like gargolyes, to scare the bad spirits away.
Down by the quay where the big boats used to come
carrying exotic things from far away, the river Tywiflows fast
and sometimes coracles bob up and down like little black shells.
Upriver, at the Bishop’s Palace, there are precious things encased
they are ancient artefacts kept carefully and gently for memories
for us to get smart about history and know what it was like in the olden days.
Today, we are slices of history
living our lives on the connecting, busy, winding streets of
Carmarthen.
Blwyddyn 4 Model School
28 February 2018