Luke Wright’s Essex Lion, and John Hegley’s nostalgic vision of life in a Luton bungalow kicked off the Wenlock poetry festival in crowd-rousing style on Friday night. Wright told his audience: “This show is all about those things we hope are true, that we wish are true.” Whether he is describing campers who swear they saw a man-eating beast, lamenting the houses that used to be boozers, or lauding an 83-year-old determined to look on the bright side of a rundown estate, the star of Edinburgh and BBC radio is on the side of those who feel that somehow, somewhere, something has been lost. Some of his poems read as an alternative manifesto to that of Ukip’s, because he understands and scorns the appeal of Nigel Farage, or ‘Nigel Farridge’: “I’ve had my arse pinched by Christine Hamilton, and that’s a true story.” His take on Scottish independence, ‘Better Together’, recognises the patronising and ruthless English attitudes that put backs up, warning Scots that “if you ever make the split / you’ll fail, and we’ll make sure of it”.

     John Hegley has no political points to make, but his song, ‘In a Luton Bungalow’, complete with audience participation, provided a touching portrayal of family life seemingly odds with his laconic, grumpy schoolmaster persona: “Ok, Wenlock, let’s rock … ok then, perhaps not.” It’s all a front, of course, rather than affront, and as the night wears on he seems to relax, and have an already devoted audience eating out of the palm of his hand – a suitable image, perhaps, with accompanying poems about out-of-the ordinary-parrots and zebras, and many other creatures. He likes to toy with the audience at times …”occasionally you can wrongfoot them” … as well as tempting them into flapping their arms or even standing on one leg in an approximation of guillemots. He launches a lively Q&A session, from which it emerges that, although never a teacher, he has had responsibility for excluded miscreants in the past. He rounds things off with a rousing tribute to redundant bus conductors in Bristol.

     On the bill with John Hegley were Mia Cunningham, Shropshire’s first young poet laureate, and performance poet Emma Purshouse. Mia’s poem, The Written Word’, was about her feeling that young people should have more of a voice, and ‘When I Talk About Shropshire’ received resounding approval: “I’m a Shropshire lass / So raise your glass / to difference.” Emma Purshouse, a festival slam champ, delivered poems about foxes, and doorknobs, fire and water, one in the seductive voice of a fruit machine – “feed my slot” -  and another about allotments called ‘Glut Reaction’. Her humourous, imaginative leaps reminded me of Victoria Wood; she was that impressive.

    Earlier in the evening Mia Cunningham was presented with a framed, signed poem by Ted Hughes that had been donated to the festival by a couple who wanted to remain anonymous. This busy, friendly festival, where you just keep falling into conversations, is also being covered by a team from Pakistani arts journal The Missing Slate, led by poetry editor Camille Ralphs. There’s much more to come in the next two days in the almost-impossibly lovely town of Much Wenlock, including Helen Mort, Glyn Maxwell, Daljit Nagra, Frieda Hughes, Rebeccca Goss, Elaine Feinstein, and Simon Armitage, to name but a few.

PHOTOGRAPH: GREG FREEMAN / WRITE OUT LOUD

See pictures from the festival