Dorothy Baker’s Bench

 

Life can be harsh on Stanpit Marsh when the North and East winds blow,

But come the Spring when the robins sing there’s a certain spot I go,

It’s known as Dorothy Baker’s Bench and there I rest awhile,

And think of all that Dorothy did when I was just a child,

You see, she knew this wondrous place must always be preserved,

She saved it from developers, she made it a reserve,

Now in the height of summer warm winds through the reed beds blow,

And frolicking foals and Natterjack toads still have a place to go,

So join me down on Dorothy’s bench, we’ll watch kingfishers blue,

As we listen for the cuckoo who seems to call …“Thank You!”

 

Sarah-Jayne Taylor

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