Abbey Ruin (St Benets Abbey, Norfolk) Poem by Patrick Ladbrooke
Abbey Ruin (St Benets Abbey, Norfolk)
Tall the abbey tower,
Now with no bell to call
Through a perfect arch to nowhere,
But a crumbling abbey wall.
Wind whispers lonely evensong
To high descant of a lark,
As it soars above the oaken cross,
Oh enduring, Holy mark.
Ageless by that river,
Time's ceaseless, silent flow,
Forsaken paths the ancients trod,
Ten centuries ago.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: ruins
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
It's there, on the river Bure in Norfolk
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 12:56:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wind whispers without fear, still water flows as river's tear, Birds fly with steer and sheer. Nice poem written poet dear. Let us read and dance in cheer.