Hullavington By Moonlight  & Days Gone By

Below are two poems written by Maurice Wicks  (1915 - 19667)  of Hullavington. They were sent to the village website by Ken Greenman.  The Hullavington Poetry Group  read these poems during  their November meeting  and, says  Eileen,  they  were charmed by them . 


From Ken Greenman

Hi Paul, just looking through the web site and noticed in the Memories of Hullavington, the one of Memories of Granny Wicks is the item i sent on Gabriel Wicks. Have just talked to your wife as you wasn't in to let you know that I  had found the attached on Granny Wicks, with photograph, also found another poem by Maurice Wicks as you can see below. I am in contact with one of his daughters Marisa Garry (nee Wicks) who has told me she is okay with me sending you them Ken


Days Gone By

by Maurice Wicks
1915 - 1967

Does the primrose still bloom
On the banks of that stream
Where I wandered so long ago.
Do the trout and the minnow still swirl at the fly
From the deeps where the current runs slow.

Does the Kingfisher still nest
In the bank by the ford
Near the bend where the boys used to bathe
Where I caught the fat trout
With three hooks in his snout
And captured his mate the next day.


Hullavington By Moonlight

by Maurice Wicks
1915 - 1967

0, silent village as you lie
In silent shadowed peace
With ne'er a sound, nor yet a sigh
Your sleep will never cease

Nor years on end you've slumber'd
But you're still just the same,
With cares we are encumber'd
You're oblivious to our pain.

You stay unchanged in a changing world
A placid, Moonlit place,
Frowning, as if a mighty thing had hurled
The smiles from your sad stone face.

The Church looks grimly down on me
With dignity and pride.
The tombstones, glimmering stonily,
Soon to try their age to hide.

And further down the quiet street
The pool lies calm and still;
Without a ripple - silent sheet
Where cattle drink their fill.

Dear place! Your name is not unknown
There are many far away
To whom you are a Home-Sweet-Home,
And they'll return some day.

They will find you haven't altered,
Though a few dear ones have gone;
Your foundations won't have faltered
You will still be "Hullinton"