High above the Severn Sea
broods an ancient Sentinel.
Swift centuries have hurried by
yet still it stands, clothed in wonder.
First the folk from forgotten lands
with copper axe and shield of bronze
stood upon the windswept height
and dared to face its fearsome thunder.
Then the Celts, so brave, so proud,
trod the ancient ridgeway paths,
built the ramparts, fought the foe.
And still it stands, clothed in wonder.
Romans came from a land of sun
with spear and sword to tame the hills.
They slew the druids on the stones
And dared to face their fearsome thunder.
And the Sentinel watched them all,
saw them live and watched them die.
Roman, Celt, like mist they fled.
And still it stands, clothed in wonder.
Then the Normans, haughty, fierce,
built upon the windswept hill.
A tower they raised to watch the land
and dared to face the fearsome thunder.
Colliers strove beneath the soil.
To warm a world they gave their blood.
Cold, aloof, the Sentinel watched.
And still it stands, clothed in wonder.
And you and I, we stand here now
and look upon the Severn Sea.
We think of all who went before
and dared to face the fearsome thunder.
And still it stands, clothed in wonder.
A very moving poem. I lke it.
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