Covered on all sides with sea all around

Walk the trail of vacant ground

A viewing point to see for miles

My favourite point on my favourite Isle

Let me always be where the silence is loud

Faraway from any madding crowd

My mind is filled with a vivid selection

Of beauty stretched out in all directions

Let me always feel this peacefulness

Free from life and free from stress

To be constantly surrounded by sea

Let me take this always along with me

Let me always be the quiet one

With healing breeze and warming sun

Which my mind can instantly recall

Let me always remember it all

Let me always have this feeling

Of sun and sea as wall and ceiling

Of peace and convivial tranquillity

To keep my mind always free

Let me always look down from up above

Let me always be in the place I love

That lies ahead.
And I soon realise that it’s not the
beautiful landscape ahead of me
I’m transfixed on.
It’s the opportunities,
The adventures,
The mysteries that are
Preserved behind the protective walls
Of the beaches
Just peeking out behind its forceful
barricades
As if to tell me they are waiting to be
discovered.
The longing I have inside of me to go
and uncover them
Is painfully unbearable.
But I know that as my ferry ploughs
peacefully through the water
I’ll arrive there soon.
Now I can’t help but feel pensive
As I look upon the view
That most are deprived of,
That some will never cast their eyes
upon,
The beautiful scenery,
A secret hidden from most.
There’s no time to be sad now
As the ferry wearily docks
And the Island’s beautiful aspect
And adventures are in touching distance.
Smile.
Laugh.
Stand in awe.
The Isle of Wight.
Welcome here.

‘Right’, I say, ‘it’s time to explore,

Let’s have a walk along the shore’,

Hearing the sound of the sea,

Gently lapping up to me.

A trip around diamond Isle,

Visiting attractions old and new,

Lots to do and see,

Must make time for a cup of tea.

As evening draws near,

We walk on the pier,

After seeing the sights

Of the beautiful Isle of Wight.

For if one’s never been abroad,
One feels so very overawed,
By all one’s fellows, who have been.
What they’ve done and what they’ve seen.
That is why we’re going today,
To novel places far away.
Then, we can brag, like all the rest,
That foreign parts are quite the best.
We know of course, that that’s not true,
So we’ll be back, before day’s through.

Towns, villages, hamlets
Marked out like jewels
On a treasure island map.
Basking lizards, grassy headlands
Gracing England
With warmth from France.

On that late November day.
Out at sea a misty veil is lifting
And ghostly ships come sliding into view
As eager eyes scan the far horizon
Shimmering and blue.
Our feet, now steadily climbing the long winding path,
That ascends
Through the haze,
To meet this glorious day.
And, somewhere, far below
Above the beach, beyond our reach,
A lonely seagull flies,
An acrobatic marvel
In the cloudless, endless skies.
Feet not used to walking
But we push them on their way
Feet that were slowing down
Until this late November day.
High on the grassy cliff looking down at the sparkling bay
Where voices are carried upwards
On a gently warming breeze,
It’s hard to believe this is Autumn,
But for the turning of the leaves.
A dog barks, someone laughs, expressing their surprise
At the strength of the sun.
‘It’s just like Summer’ we hear them say,
‘It should have been like this in August’
(This late November day).
‘This is MY island’ the sun seems to say,
‘Watch her bask in my glory – doesn’t she always have to tell the
Most enchanting story?’
She wasn’t expelled by the mainland,
It was she who pushed it away!
And now she’s proving her worth –
On this late November day.
‘Just give me this moment – some space to breathe’
She seems to be saying, almost to plead,
‘My time to shine like a jewel in a crown
Before Winter throws her gauntlet down
And still the people keep appearing
Now nothing can keep them away,
Blinking in sunlight that shouldn’t be here
On this late November day.
And, suspended here,
Between seasons, space and time,
We are suddenly aware that
For this perfect moment,
Caught here between land and sea,
There is nothing in this world
That we cannot do,
Or be.

The coloured sands of Alum Bay,
The beach at Sandown where children play.
Godshill, where thatched cottages are found,
Cowes the yacht haven of renown.

The Needles stand proudly in the sea spray
Not far from Yarmouth and Freshwater Bay,
The peaceful walk through Shanklin Chine
A stunning coast drive and Ventnor we find.

Lots to discover and things to do:
Rare white tigers at Sandown Zoo;
Wroxall and its sanctuary for donkeys;
Haven at Newport for owls and monkeys.
Carisbrooke Castle, though now a ruin,
Where King Charles I was kept in prison.
Osborne House, loved by Queen Victoria;
Freshwater, home of Tennyson, the poet.
The holiday is over, we’ve cases to pack
But already we’re planning to come back.
Ferry sets sail, land a distant sight,
And sadly we leave the Isle of Wight.
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Towns, villages, hamlets
Marked out like jewels
On a treasure island map.
Basking lizards, grassy headlands
Gracing England
With warmth from France.

A ramble with nature is divine,
A stop for afternoon tea,
Sighting a red squirrel in Shanklin Chine,
Celebrate with a Farmhouse cookie.

Small villages we visit without fail,
Taking in views, wildlife, and history
In the evening a pint of local ale,
How it all remains so beautiful is a mystery.