I walk this Isle with pleasure in nature
Rare butterflies, Adonis Blue, the Clouded Yellow
Perched on the Dogwood Tree amid the branches
Resting owls with eyes that glow
Slow Worms, lizards sunbathing in the grass
Wild flowers, Salad Burnet and Cowslip
Broomrape that butterflies adore
Rock pools, crabs scurrying along the shore
Along the overgrown rocky path
A miner's hut built of blocks of stone
Dates and names scratched 1769 and more
Long gone now, but not alone
I look toward the ancient Dead Man's Cove
I close my eyes and see the wrecks upon the shore
Dead Man's Cove because the tide brings flotsam here
When a vessel founders, much more
Smuggler's Cove, the Fleet in Doomsday book
The chapel of 1764 with a tunnel for rum
Leaning gravestones now salt scoured
Names worn off though dates on some
The great storm of Chesil Beach
The tidal wave of 1768 flooded the Fleet
Washed inland flooding the farmer's fields
Submerging the chapel some thirty feet
Though she now stands proud
History carved into the chapel's cold walls
Still gravestones some with proud anchors
Names engraved on the chapel's stalls
A Jurassic Coast, her history in stone
Fossils, footsteps of another time
Quarries, stone taken from the limestone mine
I stand with nature but not alone.