Lindisfarne Holy Island

Take my heart to that causeway free,
where the Holy Isle of Lindisfarne be,
shadowed over by a castle mound,
and there on the beach so will I be found.

Give my soul for her celtic art,
knotwork in paint sublime from the start,
and to the wild fowl & seagulls that glide,
high above this Isle where Cuthbert once died.

Saint Aidan your culture brought to the people,
and every week bells toll from the steeple,
for to call all to this special site,
England's secret this celtic delight.

Hilda, Cuthbert, Aidan are three,
Eadfrith & Eadberht all saints by the sea,
Lindisfarne Isle the place where is started,
mice dart through pebbles and grasses are parted.

Sipping mead with a view from the north,
the "Northern Lights" bring magic rays forth,
lighting the lonely waves in the distance,
while Lindisfarne castle shadows resistance.

The causeway cut as high tide rises,
sea water takes the tarmac it prizes,
as the loyal procession of tourists wait,
for the next low tide vistor's date.

© 7 years ago, Andrew Siddle