Sunday, 21 November 2010


It's goodbye to our summer suns.
Farewell, the skies of blue.
The balmy nights have left us.
The birds are far and few.

The boats have left their moorings.
The fish are God knows where.
A sigh of loss sings in the breeze.
There's sorrow in the air.

But beauty has not left us.
I trust she never will.
Along the fiery banks of Exe
her glories glimmer still.

There's beauty in our blackest cloud
and in our coldest light,
in all the winter waves that chase
from Topsham to the Bight.

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