Heritage

A historic and beautiful land we live in.
Dotted with reminders of what has gone before.
Ruined walls are reflected in a mirror pond.
Peace now resides where war once was.

People walk the walls now incomplete and
comprehend a bit of history.
Walls being walked around walls.
A fort within a fort.

These walls that now look so weak,
but have stood and waited a long time.
They are used.
Refurbished they once more stand up to
attack as seas crash against them.

Seas made black and grey from all
that is washed up within.
Old memories disturbed.
These walls have stood and will continue
to stand as long as the cornerstone remains,
and masons return.

These walls, though they do not exist in our perception,
determine what happens to us.
In some ways a non-existable foe wages an impossible war.
Peace will remain so long as I walk
in the fort of my Lord.
Walk all the time.


Living in the UK we are spoilt with the amount of history that surrounds us. We take Roman roads and Medieval castles for granted.

This poem was partially inspired by Public Information films I remember seeing as a child. The Government produced a whole series of these short films that described various famous castles across the land and encouraged us to visit them. These were low budget films. Well made but low budget, consisting of a series of shots of various parts of the castle (never with anyone else in sight) with just a voice-over telling you a bit of the history of the castle in question. They all finished with a shot of a map showing where the castle was in relation to the nearest large town so that you stood a fighting chance of finding it.

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