I Didn’t Know That About Lincoln… Actually I Did!

body of water
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Its strange what you forget and then remember, years afterwards.

Place names, particularly English place names can be pretty strange sometimes, testimony to all the tribes who have invaded this fair isle over the millennia.

Take Lincoln, capital city of Lincolnshire in eastern England, for example. The name that has come down us is composed of two elements, one Celtic or Ancient British, the other Roman.

Lyn or Lindum means a settlement near a pool, in this case what we now call the Brayford Pool, where the university is situated. King’s Lynn in Norfolk probably refers to a pool also.

Then the last element, coln… what is that? It’s a condensed version of the Roman word Colonia, which were settlements dotted throughout the empire where retired soldiers would go to live – Lincoln being one them. So the full Roman or latin name would have been Lindum Colonia. In later times the name got shortened to its present form.

There are other examples too, of course, the most famous one being Koln in Germany, usually referred to as Cologne in English and French.

Very often a place name can tell you quite a lot about the origin of the settlement and can make travelling and map reading so fascinating.

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Haiku: Saturn Meets Pluto

woman in black dress standing in front of pile of bricks
Photo by Igor Kiianchuk on Pexels.com

Pluto will tear down
Saturn is the status quo
So you go figure

(on January 12 2020, the long awaited meeting or conjunction of Saturn and Pluto becomes exact in Capricorn…)

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Haiku: The World’s End

active ash cloud ashes blaze
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This world may well end
but we don’t need you messing
to bring it sooner

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem: Adventus (Update)

person holding a burning news paper close up photography
Photo by Connor Danylenko on Pexels.com

I wake up
and the world has changed

there’s a strange quality to the light,
lurid colours of the sky creating
anthropomorphic shapes in clouds,
warnings weaved through vapour trails
like a painting by Roerich

I hear the blackbird
he’s singing a new song,
displaced by the cunning air
in an odd synchronicity
which cavorts with my mind,
a nameless advent

a voice in my head
says to ignore the news,
make a lover of the duvet
and I resolve play Vaughan Williams
around the clock,
cry out my heart to his glorious fifth
till that sweet second
to midnight comes

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem: Your House

I’d arrived there at noon
stunned by the view
from your window,
that vast sweep of shoreline.
I had earl grey tea, some carrot cake;
you made do with strong coffee.
You said we should talk, walk,
try to mimic the clockwork sanderlings,
laugh at comic turnstones,
all busy birds of the beach

I hadn’t realised
how far we’d walked.
The polar wind which swept us along
brought stinging tears to my eyes,
though little could detract
from the sight of your house
standing steadfast against the shore;
nothing except for the florid face
all cheeky smiles and winks,
that prodding finger in my side

copyright Francis Barker 2012