Bell Hole, Isfield, East Sussex


At the confluence
of The Uck and The Ouse,
below an oak,
they scuttled a bell,
not quite like¬†Dhammazedi’s,
not one requiring
a dozen white oxen,
as directed by
the witch of Slinfold:
But still equal to others’
sunken peals,
for children swallowed
on dared boat trips,
across the floods,
their names rung out,
by Saint Margaret of Antioch,
that nearby shadow of cross.


 

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