To Bristol

I left my heart in Bristol a long, long time ago,

I left it down the Harbourside where boats and people flow.

 

Someone said they saw it drinking wine Under the Stars,

It looked quite merry sitting there as pigeons pecked a Mars.

 

It said, your life from now on in must manage without me,

See Bristol makes me happy and in Bristol I must be.

 

I’ve been quite drunk in Stokes Croft, danced to reggae in St Paul’s,

An old man told me I was fit as he pissed against the wall.

 

I’ve watched skaters in the Bear Pit, seen the homeless multiply,

Had tea and scones in Clifton where the wealth is magnified.

 

I’ve gone on dreary shopping trips to Cabot Circus and Broadmead,

Wandered St Nick’s winding alleys, bought books I’ll never read.

 

I’ve ordered chips and curry sauce from Jason’s Donervan

As Bristol students downed more beer and shouted, ‘Who’s the Man!’

 

I know about the campaign to rename Colston Hall

To something less offensive, but so far it’s stonewalled.

 

I love Park Street in the mornings, the view from Nine Tree Hill,

An urban landscape stretching out, so noisy yet so still.

 

Each time I walk the streets of Bristol I discover something new,

A tiny pub, a tapas bar, shortcuts through narrow mews.

 

I’ve hunted hidden cocktails and pondered thistle milk,

Consoled a weeping woman in a dress of mulberry silk.

 

I’ve waited in the mizzle for the bus that never came

And tried to eat a sandwich as screeching gulls took aim.

 

I’ve raised my face to relish the soft, balmy south-west air,

Avoided drinking cider and smelt weed, well everywhere.

 

I’ve heard a wary mother fox calling to her young,

As echoing from the Cathedral came the sound of evensong.

 

I’ve gazed upon the city lights, spied Jesus upside down,

I’ve lost and found myself again in this one-time slaver town.

 

See I belong to Bristol and Bristol belongs to me,

I feel it deep within my heart as the Avon feeds the sea.