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Norfolk Sonnets
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Happisburgh
This is the place
where the sea eats the land
Where the friable cliffs
crumble and slide
Where pill-boxes topple onto the sand
And the relentless North Sea waves collide.
This is
the place where the church creeps closer
Where all the
cliff-top caravans retreat
Where the village pub is
facing closure
And the wind and the sea constantly beat.
So, walk along the cliff path while you can
For
everything is impermanent here;
Appreciate the changing
light and scan
The summer martins as they tilt and veer
For soon - upon some night of storm and squall
The
deep sea will be coming for us all.
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Oxnead
On a
low hill above the River Bure
They built their grand
mansion of many wings -
A symbol of their power and
greatness there:
Opulent, ornate and fit for kings.
But like all dynasties, the Pastons fell
And, in
time, their great hall crumbled too:
So only cold busts
in the church now tell
How this old family ruled and how
through
The centuries they flexed their might - and
thanks
To writs, contested wills and artistry
They
rose up quickly through the Norfolk ranks -
But might
have vanished into history
But for a chest of letters
that were found
Among the debris on the Bure-side ground.
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Cley-next-the-Sea
Once you were
a busy medieval port
With ships unloading at your crowded
quay
From Holland and London and Hull; but
Then you
lost all your access to the sea.
The Glaven silted,
the marshes were reclaimed
And slowly you slipped into
history;
Your narrow streeets and cottages became
A
birder's haven: cute and touristy.
Now there are only
echoes of the past:
Flemish gables, a church with
sailor's graves
And every hawser and anchor and mast
Have gone: and even the sound of the waves
Is
diminished now: ghostly, muted, small
Like the lonely
curlew's echoing call.
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Winter at Walcott
People
come out here to be by the sea:
Park up
beside the long concrete sea wall
Or sit in the cafe
talking quietly -
Watch gulls dive for
chips or the waves fall.
Soon the
incoming tide shrinks the beach.
Clouds build and
disperse and reform
And behind the beach the chalets
crouch
Embattled here - waiting for the next storm.
Then the light fades and the first cold drop
Of rain
falls into the waves - which now surge.
Inside the cafe
the windows steam up
And in the half-light the sea and
sky merge.
Then, somewhat earlier than was planned
Engines start and cars head back inland.
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Supported
by Norfolk Tourism