Patrick Ladbrooke Poems
- Abbey Ruin (St Benets Abbey, N... Tall the abbey tower, ...
- Rush Hour Ahead, in rain, the morning surges With brake ...
- Colours Of Love, Passing No black is blacker than the darkest...
- The Kissing Gate There is a five bar gate, white, by a ...
- A Navy Man A stranger he will be The sailor home from sea, ...
- The Conker Tree When I last walked down this lane I was just...
- Treading Leaves I tread the leaves, Which rustling, fly; ...
I began to discover literature, including poetry just 3 years ago at the age of 57, after spending my whole career as a chemist. I have written some short stories and poems since, some of which have been published, but only in places that will publish anything. It's a hobby really (he says, wishing he could make a success of it!) .
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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.