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CHIDEOCK a poem by Tony Fuller

CHIDEOCK
When you retire, your life’s work is done.
When every day is a day for yourself.
You can rise up late and sit in the sun.
There is no need to worry or care about wealth.
Just lay back and look at the blue, blue sky,
Watching a buzzard that circles on high,
The only sound heard is a lone seagulls cry.
You know this is bound to be good for your health.
For her, at last, you are where you belong.
In a place where your heart, truly, always will be.
A stone built thatched cottage, peeping out from the hills,
With wonderful views overlooking the sea.
You’ll listen, to hear the waves on the sea shore
The sound of the shingle as it’s reclaimed once more,
It reaches inside you, right down to your core.
And you know, deep inside, what it means to be free.
Sunlit hills and fields that are green,
Sleepy old village, an idyllic scene.
Church bells Sunday morning, blue skies up above.
Friendly folk, happy faces in a place that I love.
No longer to work or look at a clock.
I’e found my heaven, ……it’s called Chideock!

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