To my darling DAWN

                        (16-6-1946 to 11-2-2018)

                        "GONE WITH THE WIND"

                     BUT FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS

                            (TO NORFOLK)                  

                          Dawn loved our days in Norfolk;

                    Its charm soon captured me.

                    Wells was her inspiration

                    With its golden sand and sea!

                    We’d picnic on the Buttlands,

                    (‘The Crown’, a stroll across).

                    A gentle walk down Staithe Street

                    And there’s the ‘Albatros’.

                          Oh! Those summer days in Norfolk

                    With its perfect, azure skies.

                    We’d ford ‘The Run’ to the ‘East Hills’

                    And hear the seagulls’ cries.             

                    The children building castles

                    And paddling in the sea.

                   The lifeboat house above us;

                   These thoughts come back to me.

                        The pinewood walk to Holkham

                   And ‘crabbing’ on the quay.

                   With cockles, whelks or fish-and-chips

                   Then tired, back home for tea.

                   The view from Barrow Common

                   Away towards Scolt Head,

                   Where, wind and tide when rising

                   Call the sailor from his bed.

                        There’s Mrs. Preedy’s Cottage

                   Just by the water mill;

                   Go up the road to Overy,

                   Past the windmill on the hill.

                   Or down to Burnham Market,

                   Past another water mill,

                   To yet another Burnham

                   Where Nelson’s church stands; still.

                        When summer's nearly over

                   And the harvest's gathered in:

                   When autumn mists are rising

                   And the nights are drawing in.

                   Then winter's frosts will soon be here

                   Brought by the icy blast

                   Of Norfolk's Arctic wind and snow

                   And lifeboat crews stand fast.

                        But spring will not be far behind

                   And with it, life anew;

                   And in the hawthorn hedgerows

                   Fine webs, bedecked with dew.

                   The mists of summer mornings

                   And honking geese in flight;

                   A blood-red sky at sunset,

                   The crystal stars at night. 

                        All memories to be horded,       

                   Of love-filled days, so fond,

                   Till the final ‘Run’ be forded

                   And we share The Great Beyond. 

                                                                   Cyril