Town to Sea, Martin Newell

From Cymbeline to present day
By wooden ship and iron plough From town to sea, this was the way. The trail that led from then, to now.

Here Queen Bess’s own physician William Gilberd’s fame was won England’s earliest electrician Colchester’s magnetic son.
Cloth for master, cloth for dame Flemish Weavers passed this way Wove the borough wealth and fame Gave the town its bay and say.

Rails run towards the wharf Where the rusty river curled Lathe and diesel, oil and swarf Engineering for the world.
Lizard, newt and nesting bird Bee-wolf wasp and willow herb Where the nearby town is heard And King Car may not disturb.

Swallows and the swifts migrate When the Essex summer’s fled And the winter sun comes late Waiting for the whooper swan.
Cargoes from exotic climes Wafted on the summer winds Lemons, oranges and limes Cinnamon and tamarinds.

Boats built by the river bank Since the distant dawn of sail Keel, keelson, rib and plank Rudder, rivet, cleat and rail.
Raven on the Portreeve’s seal Stolen from the vanquished Dane Watching as the seagulls wheel Till the boats return again.
Here among St Leonard's features Ancient beehive, working still And the buzz of busy creatures Drifting up to Timber Hill.

Fishing boats went out from here Boys who'd bring the supper back Hawsers, nets and winding gear Trawler, Bawley, deep-sea smack.

Oysters, gingerbread and gin Back from Pyefleet, bearing east August out – September in Autumn sun, then mayoral feast.

Here the globe exchanges riches Electronics, education
Take the place of fish and flitches Nation trades with other nation.

Underneath this eastern sky Went the weaver and his pack Sailing ships and seagull’s cry Sea to town the trail leads back.

Lugger, lighter, barge and cutter Graced this quayside with their load Schooners bringing fruit and butter Ghosts that gaze at Maudlyn Road.

Export cargoes hoist by crane Boots and shoes and tuns of ale Sacks of feed and Essex grain Waiting for the ship to sail.