The Suffolk Serpent, by me
The Suffolk Serpent, by me
Serpentine, they slither snakelike,
spiral-coiled and twisted.
They wind by lanes and hedgerows both
and stand up unassisted.
Pencil-thin but sturdy too, you see,
a thing of splendour;
A miracle of engineering:
tall but rather slender.
What’s that you say? You don’t know what
I’m speaking of at all?
The marvel of East Anglia –
the crinkle-crankle wall!
A cringle-crangle sidewards-angled
blunder it is not.
No, the crinkle-crankle waving wall’s the
best one of the lot.
I could go on to recount further
seven verses yet,
But you’re probably bored so I’ll stop.
— me
Another nonsense poem from me, sorry. This one also just kinda came out of nowhere during lockdown in Slovakia (just a classic menty b during the panny d). Something about the post-Soviet concrete brutalism in Petržalka made me miss the whimsical architecture of rural East Anglia (and especially Suffolk).
This is another poem that makes me think of all-weather* walks with my family, even though ostensibly it’s not really about anything at all.
Featured Image: A snake we found on a walk beside Tianchi – the Heavenly Lake in the Tianshan mountains, Xinjiang.
* Fine, “most-weather”.
