I. CHAPEL ST. LEONARDS
The little boy stands on his castle of sand,
and gazes across the far seeing land.
The marram grass armies below him snake,
and crashing behind, brown sea horses break.
He looks and he sees beyond and beyond,
the marsh and the meadow, his house and beyond
the red-roofed church, the scots-pine-hid farm,
beyond where the London train whistle alarms.
Further, higher, than a fairy tale cloud
he sees beyond villages, woods and the towns –
where the lessening spires meet the wide wold green,
and earth touches sky in a place unseen.
Above him, around him, he’s crowned with the sky,
and over his shoulders the grey clouds fly;
with his heart in the stars and his feet in the sand,
forever a king of the far-seeing land.