Nestled in the deep pocket
Of the Cotswolds
Lies a village
That can only be known
Via old tracks, footpaths
And bridleways.
Some say it was lost,
Loosing its footing in time.
And some say it is found
Disregarding time’s
Bustling runaway.
But all who walk
The sleepy streets
Are touched by the woodsmoke air
And the cottage gardens’
Homely claim
On old walls
In which the roses scramble
And flowers beds billowing rich
Beside the flagstone path.
And time appears
To flow unending
From pastoral histories
And more simple years
Where one year spent
Yielded freely
In the spending of the next.
Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2016
I love this poem Ben. Where is the village?
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Well I suppose I have used a little artistic license with this one. It could be wigginton.
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Amazing! I thought you might be thinking of Widford where there is an abandoned site of a medieval village. St Oswald’s church is beautiful. It was built on the site of a Roman villa and has a mosaic floor, discovered in 1604. You need to follow the River Windrush from Burford towards Swinbrook to reach it. It is well worth the effort. Such a peaceful place!
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