Pilgrim’s Rest, Rose Oliver

Somewhere the bells are ringing.
Do you hear them pilgrim, do you hear?
And the birds are sweetly drifting
on the church spire very near.

Candles flicker in the dark
all along the charnel wall.
St. Leonard-at-the-Hythe-
haven for one and all.

And where your feet will wander
the stones won’t give you away.
May the saints guide your passage
from dawn to break of day.

Harbour with the patrons.
Drift your mind to hear their tales.
The ships they sail along the nave
casting anchor, loosened sails.

All are welcome at this port
whether Danish traders or pirates be.
Roman dealers at the Lympne
Saxons fallen by the sea.

Stare not too long at their longing.
There is always room for more.
The angels still hold vigil
past the musket holes on the door.

Somewhere the bells were ringing.
Do you hear them pilgrim, do you hear?
And the birds still softly singing
on the church spire very near.