St Enodoc Church

And now so free to feel the air
Behind the dunes back of the bay
In midst of links and hillocks green
And nestled at the foot of Brea

I sit and from my vantage point
I see and view the Camel’s mouth
With Stepper Point ahead of me
And Rock a little to the south

In stillness do I hear the sounds
Of gulls so high upon the wing
The lapping of the distant waves
And on a Sunday people sing

The rustle of the Cornish air
The drifting of the golden sand
The knocks of golf balls driving past
And silent hub-bub of the land

The memories I cherish dear
The essence of dear souls of old
The squeals of children by my font
And spirits ether to behold

And when the mist encircles me
From sea and land on cooler days
I feel the touch and recollect
Why to Him I will impart praise

To find out more about this little church nestled in the Dunes of Daymer Bay, Trebetherick on the North Cornwall coast click here

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Trebetherick

Where thrift and gorse grow ever sure
And slate cliff tumbles to the shore
Where Brea Hill rises from the bay
And Enodoc stays tucked away
Behind the dunes where Links expand
Ahead sea laps on soft pure sand
Whilst Daymer Lane seeks out the beach
And Greenaway’s within stone’s reach
Trebetherick, a hidden gem
Set there in Cornwall’s diadem

 

Paradise

I dreamt we went to greener lands
The other side of fence
A land of mysteries so great
A land so called pretence
Where water was so very clear
Where hunger didn’t call
Where hurt and pain had left this earth
Where no-one took a fall
Where love was the only language
And care the paradigm
I dreamt we went to greener lands
Where all was so sublime

The place that is a paradise
The land that could exist
Where living in fine harmony
Burns sunshine through the mist
The place of purer unity
Where all diversity
Is celebrated; assets shared
A place we’d like to be
Where blame just doesn’t happen and
Respect is given worth
I dreamt we went to greener lands
A heaven here on earth

Grantham

Grantham bestride the Witham sits
Where town embraces shire
And church steeple arises high
From Wulfram’s Church not to deny
Such history to aspire

Within the ancient wapentake
Of Winnibriggs and Threw
Her heritage shines out so bright
Her legacy and pride in sight
From Hills and Hollows view

Whence from the peregrine’s eyrie
That nests in the bell tower
Her soul outspread for all to see
That stretches out across country
Her bequest to endower

For here the feet of honoured peers
Attest her hidden zeal
To incubate great destiny
Inspire each one prodigiously
Her fervent heart reveal

English: Grantham town centre as seen from the top of the hills and hollows with St. Wulfram’s Church as the focal point. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Grantham is a market town in Lincolnshire, UK.  Birthplace of the UK’s first woman Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, home to Isaac Newton’s old school, The King School and renowned for being the first town to have female police officers in 1914.  The Mallard steam train broke the speed record just south of the town in 1938.  Grantham can also be thanked for producing the first running diesel engine in 1892 and the UK’s first tractor in 1896.  This poem therefore pays homage to a small town that has in its own right made a huge contribution to the world at large.