Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
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In October red I paused beneath its lofty heights in wonder at the absolute magnificence of this redwood tree asunder So imagine my dismay today to find that storms with thunder and a lightning strike reduced it to a stump and piles of lumber Yes, there's like still there but its pride is lost for good a sad, contrite reminder of a once proud tall redwood
Forlorn now this iron leads to nowhere save to a shortsighted whim synonymous to abandoned towns where Beeching's blunder echos still Yet testament still here they lie as memory fades with brittle truth reminder tracking to long lost connections and a politician's gain
Framed by aging iron posts the ancient steps behind the padlocked gate lead nowhere (least no place I could find) Mysterious the setting with the undergrowth and tree left me puzzled and a-wondering at what it all could mean
We coddiwompled in the mud up at Barcombe Mills all eight of us together amidst the Sussex hills The rain held off but underfoot the mud was thick and wet but we all had the best of times so never cause to fret
Planned a walk, it was quite far but the views would be spectacular so there was little here to mar our wander for the day Yes, we'll be out for several hours so hoping for some sun not showers to claim the day and make it ours in every single way
One hundred sixteen years ago 'Old B' he wrote some lines and sent them to Molteno in those now long distant times I can't quite read his writing but I know so well the scene on the postcard that he used as it is a place I've been
Seven Sisters, South Downs Way high up on Short Brow looking back to Cuckmere Haven the sun before me now Perfect walks were made for this and breathing deep the air I laughed aloud with thankfulness for simply being there
Across Springfield by Skyglade above the Amos brook the pillbox by the millpond was worth a second look Nestled underneath the trees its brickwork overgrown a peaceful life from brutal years for seven decades known
Down from fourteen acre pond in the valley by the Ouse I sat and had a sandwich and a sherbert and a snooze And yes, it's late October but you'd never credit that as the warmth in this fine meadow feels like summer for a fact There's no-one else around me save for sheep in the next field so I'm quite within my element in the heart of Sussex Weald
For a long moment I forgot to breathe as I for mesmerising moments gazed at the picture from Mother Nature's palette as autumn gold she painted
It's been a while since I wandered out in the land that Sussex affords in its landscape so grand so today in my boots with my compass in hand I ventured out there again The sunshine was warm in an Autumn blue sky with occasional clouds floating lazily by so with inclemency low and good weather high I ventured out there again
Heard them first a-honking, a crescendo from the West before the 'V' right overhead, formation at its best A goose display of perfect flight for us there in the field as we walked Obi in the rain deep in the Sussex Weald And it was quite magnificent, it made us laugh aloud full of the joie de vivre that sings and make the heart feel proud
October shadow, Obi's field in the heart of Sussex Weald barely was the warmth concealed in the autumn now Walked a mile around the place felt again familiar grace with the sunshine on my face in the autumn now
Ah, these temperate moments when, up on the South Downs Way I look up to the paths I've trod on a fine autumnal day
On a bright day in September when out for a walk with my G-pa and G-ma for a sniff and a talk they showed me the sights, the river and such but I have to say now, can't remember that much
Found an old map in Emmaus worn and dusty and old thought to myself 'I'm having that' went out of the shop with it sold Familiar but different there are things long gone away a past the history books have claimed from our quaint yesterday
Had ten days last month for wonderful things to all bring a joy and pull at heartstrings Places to visit and things to see there taking photos to later re-live and re-share Ten days of staycation what more could I need when living in Sussex for this life that I lead? As Sussex has all the 'joie de vivre' I desire with its people and places and things I admire So whenever a moment affords this release I'm happy in Sussex as at home I find peace
Two thousand years of weathering this column's stub has seen in situ still in Sussex where in all that time it's been A testament to Roman skill and craftsmanship to see that though but just a stub remains it's here and long will be So, looking up to Bignor Hill this ancient land so fair I stood to ponder that a while and in that moment share
At Stopham Bridge, late summer with cool waters down below as the Arun slowly trickles on a turning tide quite slow Sitting on the decking of the White Hart across the way this view is quite breathtaking on this peaceful summer day
Four spans across the Adur at its mouth at Shoreham town on the road on into Lancing at the foot of Sussex Down Four spans of steel construction admired for sixty years 'til Norfolk Bridge mark II's demise 'midst many local tears
Parallel to Oxen Avenue the ancient trackway lay from Mill Lane to Upper Shoreham as a pedestrian way Elm trees at its southern end stood by the kissing gate which though the trackway is still there has long since met its fate
When the Norfolk Bridge first opened the High Constable had the key for the old toll bridge in deference in eighteen thirty-three The Duke of Norfolk he was present for a procession up the street 'neath both surmounting arches and the horse and lion's seat Designed by W Tierney Clarke it was the first of three to bear the name of 'Norfolk Bridge' in Shoreham by the sea.
Now long gone from the harbour demolished years ago the Old Crab Inn as once it was is nestled there below alongside the old shingle beach beneath the tunnelled hill at the bottom end of Gardener Road for halcyon days to fill
As a boy I used to play there inside the burnt out walls for hide n seek and other games within its hallowed halls once we ventured to the basement down dark and dusty stair oblivious to danger with innocence to dare But now all these years later it is a block of flats though with outer walls remaining preserved and still intact
I found it on the high tide line after a night of fire the Grand Old Lady of the sea destroyed by spite and ire Yet carried on an ebbing tide along the coast to me a memory of those boards I trod now rescued from the sea So though her grandeur is no more complete her fall from grace Brighton's West Pier always will in history have her place
The beach Ted Bunker launched his boat from sadly is no more once called 'The Gut' its gutted now no more a shingle shore Filled in to make a car park the beach where once we played is another loss to history and to the fishing trade
Just east of the church on the foreshore bungalows once on the beach presented a vista of Shoreham history has put out of reach Popularised by early movies actors built many homes there salvaging old railway carriages the carriage works then had to spare Mary Loftus, a music hall favourite Florrie Ford, Ernie Mayne, Marie Lloyd all of the lovelies who flocked to the beach making it hard to avoid
'Malduppinne' as it was first called in thirteen forty-seven by grant from John le Pottere to his wife in his succession Its purpose now long lost to time a museum now it hosts in the oldest secular building that the town of Shoreham boasts From 'Malduppinne' to 'Marlipins' this build of Caen stone with flint-knapped chequered walls remains the oldest one still known
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