STEPHANIE JUPP

.


LYMPSTONE, SEPTEMBER 1960


On Station Hill I stare astonished -
deep water lies below; the brook
angry at the clogged up sluice gates
has roared and tumbled through houses and shops -

the estuary has kept out of it, being neapish
and near low tide; a man hands me
into a boat and rows me along
the street at window level; a schoolgirl

Cleopatra in her barge; but unlike
the Nile Queen, I have to step out
and trudge homewards, navy hatted
and black stockinged up and up

the village, wondering if an asp
would be preferable to Science prep.




Stephanie Jupp



More:

STEPHANIE JUPP

CONSTANTILYMPSTONE


"It's just like the Bosphorus!"
the Turkish neighbour says,
as if Powderham Church
had grown a minaret,

the bosky Haldon Hills had
given way to Asian steppes,
and the 9.56 rattling down
to Teignmouth on the other side

were the Orient Express;
"except for the tides, of course"
he adds, thus denying us
those precious hours

when sandbanks
welcome waders
and little boats lie
clinking at their moorings.



Stephanie Jupp grew up in Lympstone 1947-1967, and has spent the last forty years coming back as often as possible.