a country of in between

For a few years, in the 1980's, I lived in Shropshire - and have always liked Anthea Toft's poetry which focuses on the surrounding area ...

... walking & cycling up-and-around the Long Mynd (which gets a mention in the poem below) was always a joy.

And this verse is taken from the pictured 1983 compilation of Toft's poems - another in the current #notblippedbefore  series :-)


The Places In Between

Between Shrewsbury on the Severn and Ludlow on the Teme
There lies some hilly country that's sort of in between;
The Clee hills rising Eastward and Long Mynd to the West
The valleys in between them some think they like the best.
And many secret places lie sheltered by these hills,
Some think Batch valley pretty and some like Cardingmill,
Or broad Corve Dale is lovely on a sunny afternoon
Where flows the sweet Corve river, though some prefer the Cound.
And always round about you the land begins to irise,
For Lawley, Ragleth, Caradoc in every aspect lies
Where sheep and bracken covered you can hear the curlews cry
Surrounded by the heathery hills beneath a Shropshire sky.
The market town of Stretton is busy, bright and clean;
While the hill road up the Burway is the steepest ever seen.
Rushbury and Hope Bowdler, Cardington and Wall
Are pretty little villages that in the Ape Dale fall;
And Diddlebury and Ticklerton and Longville in the Dale,
Where stands a pub the Longville Arms, of many a traveller's tale;
And underneath the Wenlock Edge is Eaton Church so small,
Where snowdrops fill the churchyard beneath the beech tree tall.
And over on the other side is Enchmarsh on the hill,
And the Yell Bank to Chatwall is even better still;
The view to East, the view to West lies open to your gaze
And far beyond the hills of Wales lies Snowdon in the haze;
And high across the Wenlock Edge just visible to the eye
The smoke of powerhouse chimneys, tower-blocks against the sky.
But here the air is fresh and clear upon the windy hill
And sheltered by the layered hedge wild flowers are blooming still;
Pink purslane and primroses and eye-of-Speedwell blue
And meadowsweet and trees of may-'tis peace the whole year through.

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Anthea Toft

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