Enchanted isle
resting amidst a sapphire sea.
Beyond soft white sand
harbour boats sway,
Whilst on the shore
Heed the cry of a corncrake
concealed in the dunes.
Stone and rock
Fashioned by man
Or by time
Warmed by the sun
have endured
the ages.
And the isle’s beating heart
Reveals itself.
No jewel encrusted palace of gold
Far more precious:
A square stone building
Simple and pure.
The door stands open
Light streams through
Illuminating
whitewashed walls.
A wooden cross in one corner
in the centre
an eternal flame.
The spellbound traveller
lights a candle.
And through a veil of tears,
Sending out a heartfelt plea,
Finally, surrenders to
perfect peace.
By Jayne Ryman