The River of Glasgow - Poem

Photo: Philip O’Donnell/Unsplash

By Emma Connor

You run through Glasgow
Not quite a shadow,
but a body that flows as long as it goes.
You’re as old as us,
as parents and rust,
You carry ships, thousands to date,
Survived by wars, spilled and sold
Here and flooded with streams of gold.
You birthed our boats and carried our hopes
The river of Clyde, for boats so wide
Pirates were born and many were buried
deep in your depths like a bottomless penny
you roughly approach
that great ocean with our hope.
A name which means loud, or strong, or flowing.
Maybe you’re holy, you cleanse and control
But until this day, still no one knows
Since you go so far back
No one can trace
your one true pure path.
Trades and tobaccos
You lived as we thrived.
You lived as we died.
You’re more than meets the eye
The coins came and glowed
And you would not mould
Change was made as you watched in your stead
For a time you were red
with workers’ bloodshed.
sunken like lead, on their death bed
Bombs fell long
They cut off your song.
They left you to waste, what a disgrace.
Now you remain, still so unsafe.
But you were not gone
Nothing so forlorn.
Life still breathed, down in your seas.
No longer used, no sooner abused
You’re still a beauty for all those to see
The great river Clyde in Glasgow you breathe.