Posted by Admin on 25 May 2006, 12:00 am
A white plane hides the weathered stone –
reflects across the tidal flats
(those wet and widespread pool-patched sands
where fort and foreshore meet) that light
which some three centuries ago
illumined nave and apse and choir –
deflects the northern gales to keep
unscathed its remnant of a tower.
No sun-cult monolith, it stands
a foursquare sign, on hallowed ground
preserved, this brick-faced and, alas,
vestigial fane, of service yet –
a focal point for men at sea:
for pietists a symbol of
their faith in perpetuity.
From The Hounds of Cridmore and Other Isle of Wight Poems, a book of Mr Hudson’s poetry with many illustrations by Heather Cobb.
T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.
This work may not be reproduced without prior permission of the author.
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