Some say it all began with Adam,
Brahma, Olodumare, Eve,
but whatever you believe,
Adamstown is where it starts and ends for me.
My garden is a charm bracelet of streets.
Pearls, topaz, silver, sapphires meet,
and in my imperfect Eden life unfolds.
The streets of London might be paved with gold
but I’m a patchwork, a mosaic,
life’s beauty is what you make it and
a kaleidoscope of people makes me tick.
From a kickabout, to picking out fabric and loaves of bread.
Hair gets cut, bets are put, and hungry bellies fed.
To the rhythm of feet my cobbles sing the stories of lives I’ve lead.
Begin at the beginning.
Turn off Pearl Street and greet the dawn as deliveries spark the motion of my day.
Loaves stacked tall and crates of all the veg that you could need.
At my shop doors stand a rainbow feast of plantain, peppers, swede.
And now you need a coffee.
Pick a café, pavement table and
so you’re able to soak up the busy bustle of the street,
horses whinny, wheels clatter, shutters rattle,
and of course before long you’ll meet a friend.
A neighbour stops to chat,
News of who said what and did you ever hear that?
Over shop counters and pints,
Old friends set the world to rights,
and pass the time with stories short and tall.
Despite my red-top reputation
I will welcome all.
If you’re new or you recall
your granny’s granny’s granny
owned this house.
For the Cardiff born and bred,
for the refugee who fled,
for the drifting and the settled,
I am here.
Saoirse Anton, a local creative, wrote this poem about Clifton Street which was performed as part of the festival finale.