Aberystwyth: The Final Entry
Black, the waves roll into the shore.
From the ruins, the wind streams east,
billowing my hair like a flag.
It is a gentle touch,
nothing personal for the stones it rocks,
fresh, fermented across the bay.
It is a sight, like the salvation of Aquila’s crew,
steering leeward,
that I imagine in the chill.
It’s the camping cold, the sort
you shiver off inside the sleeping bag,
until the warmth can hold you once again.
The promise of Aurora had slipped my sight,
like the water from Mererid’s fingers
that hold Cantre’r Gwaelod under its dark tide.
It is so close now,
so close,
drawing to the end of the line: here.
She whispers, and whistles, like the restless gulls
that patrol the navy shore,
a pale ripple, a flickering of light,
after the sunsets that bind time.
Soon, another century’s dust
on the leaves of the Carmarthen Book.
Nanteos cup, sweats in the gallery –
time now sits in italic,
like the slate that ruptures the earth.
In a fortnight’s turn,
I’ll let it all go, draining from a broken bowl,
trailer in tow, going home.
– Ginnie-May Turner
(2024)
‘Aberystwyth: The Final Entry’ is the last poem I wrote in a creative writing module at University. I was really close to my poetry assignment deadline, and I was one poem short. Naturally, I was stressed, and nothing that I was trying to write came to anything. My birthday came around, and my family drove down to see me, and I had a day off with them, my Mom in particular encouraging me to spend some time away from my room, hoping the break would give me room to breathe and come back to it with a clearer head and more inspiration.
It was a day when sightings of the northern lights had been seen across much of the UK, and being in love with the night sky and astronomy I would love to have seen them. So, after a lovely day with my family, before dropping me off back home, my mother parked up at the seafront and we walked to the ruins of Aberystwyth Castle, where I had seen sightings of them there from social media. As referenced in my poem, I didn’t see any, but for a few minutes I stood there and took in the atmosphere.
Especially at the front, my vision was blinded slightly by the streetlamps. The flagpoles clinked slightly in the breeze – it was cool and fresh, but it didn’t freeze me, and the sea was black like the night sky, only small white frothing lines from crashing waves could be made out. Maybe it should have been eerie, but I thought it was peaceful.
My time at Uni was coming to an end soon, so I suppose I started reflecting on my time there, and I took in this moment, as I knew it was one of my last in Aberystwyth.
To me, this poem bottles the few minutes up there on the castle ruins, and all the whimsy and folklore and mystery that I had found, and not expected to, when going to Aber. I’ve found that it is very personal also, in an autobiographical way, as it captures the very weird and unique lull I was in – a strange stress and silence in the midst of essays and assignments before my time there was over and I’d leave the sea again and return home. There was a lot of mixed emotions, but I think there was a lot of fondness as well. All in all, it was an adventure.
In this poem, I really enjoyed intertwining the personal, metaphorical, historical and folkloric elements together (as I have done with a previous poem, ‘Salve, magna parens’). I love the metaphoric texture this adds, I love the imagery and sensory play with description and how it can play with meaning and identity. I love history and folklore, so perhaps when I go to places I’m drawn to learn or immerse myself in elements of it.
In Aberystwyth I learnt of the shipwreck of Aquila off the coast, I had also fallen down rabbit holes, watching documentaries on Welsh history and folklore. And from this, I had learnt of the legend of the sunken kingdom off the Ceredigion coast, Cantre’r Gwaelod, and as legend goes the well-maiden Mererid’s distraction caused the kingdom to flood and sink (although I have also heard it was the gate keeper Seithennyn in other versions of the story), and all this happened pretty much in the bay that I looked at almost every day.
I learnt about the Black Book of Carmarthen, where these tales are first written in (as well as the The White Book of Rhydderch, but I didn’t manage to slip that into this poem unfortunately), and also the Nanteos Cup.
This cup is said to have healing powers when drunk from, it is named after the mansion it was found in near Aberystwyth. There is only a fragment of it left, and is said to be a possible contender for the Holy Grail that King Arthur and his Knights were looking for.
As a lover of British history and legends, naturally I love the legend of King Arthur, and I was astounded to realise that the Nanteos Cup (as well as the Carmarthen Book) happened to be on display in the National Library of Wales – in Aberystwyth! I couldn’t believe my luck! Naturally, I have been and been lucky enough to have seen them in person on display, and I felt really honoured.
The physical world has a lot of power, but so does the realm of legend. Sometimes, that invisible force can have greater hold over us. Our stories are important, it teaches us lessons, it gives us images to be able to articulate the unknown, and ourselves.
For many of my Uni projects, I had been studying Joseph Campbell’s works on storytelling, archetypes and the hero’s journey, which are all things that I am very much interested in and have always resonated with their themes and concepts, even without knowing. I found it very endearing to be able to mentally symbolise my adventure and journey of Uni through an archetypical cycle of a call to adventure, crossing the threshold into the unknown, and through trial and tribulation (I do exaggerate on that point slightly!! XD) on the way have found these little treasures, including a legendary healing cup and contender for the Holy Grail, and a lost kingdom!
Maybe a broken cup may not seem important to most, but it was a special moment for me. The more you learn, I think the more you can see that we are so close to so much magic, so much beauty and history in this world, especially in the British Isles. I may be biased, but we have so much to cherish here, so much to appreciate.
I’ll try not to go off on too much of a tangent here, I quite liked the idea of writing a bit below these poems just to let people in on their meanings, and I hope I’ve done an alright job with this one.
I have a long history with Wales, it’s a beautiful country and I’m so lucky to have a childhood full of a lot of camping holidays there. It feels nice to have that history as a child climbing past the gorse and digging trenches in the beach, to now going and completing University and getting a degree as an adult. The adult part might be disputed by some! 😀 But anyway! It feels quite cyclical and symbolic to me. I followed the gulls to the sea, I answered the call to adventure, and now I am back home again!
But after a lovely birthday spent with my family on that Aberystwyth night, I was dropped off again at my accommodation and got ready for bed. The next time I’d see my parents would be when they came with the trailer to take me home. In the strange silence of those rooms at night I was really tired, but a few lines started to come to me, so I grabbed the nearest pen and a piece of paper, and I pretty much wrote the entire poem then and there before I went to sleep.
It’s certainly not the most impressive image, but this was the photograph taken that night, looking out to sea from the castle ruins.
I thought I’d probably just end this with a few pictures of Aberystwyth from my time there. I hope you enjoy!
Please feel free to check out any of my other poems if you haven’t done so already!
And thank you for reading this one!
Photos from a day out on the Vale of Rheidol Railway!
The best bit about being by the sea, is being by the sea!
I loved walking in the hills!
The sky and sea are always a masterpiece.
