The Town on the Hill

To Margaret Tiltman (nee Bourn) on her 65th. Birthday

Come walk with me stranger - what do you see 
A small part of England where home is to me 
Built on a hilltop with church upon high 
It's wonderful spires reaching up to the sky 

Come walk with me stranger - what do you hear 
The town whispers history as you draw near 
Ypres Castle - Landgate the Inn called Mermaid 
Where in days gone by the smugglers did trade. 

Come walk with me stranger - what do you see
Cobbled streets, oak beamed houses - white with plaster
Once, no twice, burned by the French - such disaster
Rebuilt again in fourteen twenty 
For folk had courage and energy plenty.

Come with me stranger - what do you see 
The town of my birth of my father and mother 
My children, my husband, a sister and brother
Where neighbours and friends I've known all my life 
There for you when needed in sadness and strife. 

Come stranger will you gather round me open your eyes and what do you see 
My town with it's beauty in the eye of the beholder 
Where I know one day as I grow older
I will have to come to a place of rest but already
I have chosen the best
For there on a hilltop I will lie 
Forever overlooking my home, MY RYE.

FROM JEAN SEWETT (nee Menzies) a dear friend.

“Rye’s Own” July 2005

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