She Runs with Silver Hair – A Poetry Journey with the River Mersey

The River Mersey Poem

The River Mersey holds a special place in my heart. She struts through the heart of Greater Liverpool like a model on a catwalk. She is a maternal figure to all who live along her banks..

Her name, from the Anglo-Saxon for “border river“, recalls a time when she stood between kingdoms – Mercia and Northumbria.

She is both protector and destroyer. Loving, yet dangerous. Her tides are the third fastest in Europe, a force of nature cloaked in beauty.

I composed this poem while sitting on the banks of the River Mersey one sunny afternoon. Inspiration struck as I watched sunlight ripple across her surface, like she was draped in liquid silver.

I think you will agree that is is a magic in all our local rivers and we need to protect them.

She Runs with Silver Hair – An Ode to the River Mersey

She runs with silver hair and muddy feet,
Divider of cities never to meet.
Born out of rainy hills in distant moors,
Cutting through stone valleys like open doors.

A border for Saxon and men of Norse,
Providing protection from opposing force.
Timeless in nature, steady in presence,
Both love and anger are her essence.

Used and discarded by those hands unkind,
Yet her heart was love, she is never blind.
She hugged those mills and smoke-filled skies,
Ships leaving in the night, lovers’ goodbyes.

Her voice is Gull-song and dockland slang,
In echoes of shipwrecks and bells that rang.
Our timeless mother with an outstretched hand,
She laughs with sailors and loves bold rock bands.

She has tasted blood and speaks of the dead,
Days long past, our history in her bed.
She is mother, mourner, witness and thief,
She holds our sorrow; she tastes our grief.

Mother Mersey, you are ancient and strong,
Imbued with history, your path is long.
You do not rest, your influence is wide,
Mother Mersey, our goddess of the tide.

end.

I hope you enjoyed this poem and I would love to hear what you think below in the comments.