Tag Archives: wales

the river dee

I‘ve shared some of my Mum’s poetry with you before, so I thought I’d post this one of hers about the River Dee. The one in Wales, not the Scottish one!

Just imagine you’re with me
Along the banks of the River Dee.
Such beautiful sights you then will see
From Bala Lake to Connah’s Quay.

Gracefully she flows along
From her source at Bala Lake
On through the beautiful ‘Land of Song’
Her journey she doth make.

On she goes through Corwen Town
Her ripples quietly stirring,
As slowly, majestically, she moves down
To the foaming falls at Berwyn.

A wonderful scene which doth never fail
To convey a calm and sweet repose
As through the beautiful sunlit vale
And under Llangollen’s bridge she flows.

Tirelessly on o’er Cefn’s smooth rock
The viaduct and aqueduct are here.
On to pretty Erbistock
Past its Inn, Church, Mill and Weir.

Overton Bridge, what a lovely sight.
Here you hear wonderful tales
Of how, for salmon, they had to fight,
The fishermen of Wales.

Historic Bangor she now leaves
Here the monks fought their foes.
Serenely weaving her way she goes
Through green Worthenbury meadows.

The place which she now comes upon
Was surely made for fairies.
Lovely Holt and quaint Farndon
Famed for their strawberries.

Leaving the scenery of Wales
For the land of the ‘Gentlemen Merry’
To see the launch that daily sails
And turns at Eccleston Ferry.

Past the vast estates of Westminster
The banks they look so pretty,
As busily she enters Chester;
The ancient cathedral city.

Twisting around the famous Roodee
Back to Wales again she goes.
Queensferry Bridge, Shotton, Connah’s Quay
And into the estuary she flows.

Where e’er you go in this whole, wide world
By car, coach, sea or rails.
Like the river, you will return and say,
“There’s nowhere quite like Wales”

I hope you enjoyed my Mum’s poem. Although born and bred in England, she always had a love of Wales. She lived many years on the border, on a farm not far from the River Dee. In fact it flowed through the farm lands. We used to take a picnic down to the river in the summer.

For some of the distance the river marks the border between England and Wales, and when we had our picnics, we were in England, but the other side was Wales.

I heard a story that during the ban on travel from England to Wales, a person drove across the bridge in Farndon to pick up a takeaway just on the other side. Sadly that was in Wales and they got fined for crossing the border!

If you enjoyed my Mum’s poem, please leave a comment in the comments box.

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