A striking array of architecture and engineering
split by a motorway: slipping away on the periphery,
age old churches with honeycomb spires,
stone walls structured by hands gnarled and weathered,
and where we walk, the canal, conveyor of commodities,
built with such precision and purpose,
then restored to peaceful glory
by people inspired by history and the benefits of tranquillity.
The other edge marked by smooth sailing windmills,
soaring tall and majestic,
beautiful beacons befitting a noble vision;
while their base neighbour, the monstrous, belching
rocksavage powerstation carcass, casts its shadow
upon weather beaten protesters
waving placards and drowning in fracked fields.