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Fyling Hall (a poem)

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She sits, nestled comfortably in her woodland abode

With her aged old back turned away from the road.

She’s too intent on gazing out to the sea

to be troubled by the tides that come and leave.

She’s secure in her grounding, her roots are firm.

Her history defines her: there’s much to learn.

Echoes of laughter bounce off her walls:

There’s a new flux of faces every time leaves fall.

They run round her gardens and slide down mud bank

And whisper in toilets planning exciting pranks.

She has seen it all before this grand old dame:

the tears, the tantrums the haphazard games,

the teachers, the children and the many policies –

they all come and go like the tide of the sea.

But for all who’ve spent time embraced in her arms

and opened their eyes to her multiple charms,

her impact will stay with us and will always remain.

We’ll re-run old memories of our happy days,

spent learning, and growing within her wise walls

of being part of a family; of being part of Fyling Hall.

Mrs Claire Park, former Head of English

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