Above us their church tower peers down on where we roam

Built when fruits of the summer harvest were all the talk

Beneath our feet are the floors and walls of their home

Covered now by the thick and heavy earth on which we walk


Behind us, before us, to our side, both left and right

Is the history of those times, now faded from our view?

Where once the sunshine shone down on them so bright

When Sunday duty called, best dressed to take the family pew.


In that hidden world, such hope, their dreams were plenty

In tune with nature, they took comfort from the written word.

Twelve pence to the shilling, of these to the pound there were twenty.

Rewards, treats rare received, yet voices of laughter could be heard.


Pictures from our past reveal what seems such a familiar face

Travel in time to think of those who trod this path before

Imagine how it was, look down, look up and all around this place

Just pause to reflect on what you felt and not on what you saw.