Listen to the track:
🎵 Walled Garden
On Wembury Road as you travel to Thorn
Intro
You’ve driven past a thousand times,
But never guessed the walls held rhymes.
Verse 1
On Wembury Road, just past the bend,
A granite gate marks garden’s end.
Two stone balls sit high and proud,
But what they hide was never loud.
Verse 2
A stretch of wall, a hidden space,
Once fed the house with quiet grace.
The glasshouse steamed, the soil was turned,
And every row was neatly earned.
Chorus
With gravel paths and edging red,
Fruit trees climbing garden bed.
Inside those walls, the seasons ran,
By steady hand and careful plan.
Verse 3
Urscott walked the morning rounds,
Clocked the vent gears’ clicking sounds.
The pineapples tried their luck with heat,
In friendly war with Langdon’s seat.
Verse 4
Jim and Fred and old man West,
Worked each bed with patient zest.
Cold frames neat and fig trees tied,
With nets to keep the pests outside.
Chorus
With gravel paths and edging red,
Fruit trees climbing garden bed.
Inside those walls, the seasons ran,
By steady hand and careful plan.
Bridge
Muslin bags on peaches hung,
To guard the fruit from wasp and sun.
The Cook would meet the Gardener wise,
To shape the week’s supplies with pride.
Verse 5
Now bindweed creeps where box once stood,
And nettles stir where glass once should.
But if you pause and listen in,
The old place hums beneath the din.
Final Chorus
With gravel paths and edging red,
Fruit trees climbing garden bed.
Though time moves on, the walls still stand,
With memories shaped by loving hands.