Haibun 4 Poem by Jacqui Thewless

Where the present church stands now, legend has it that St Deiniol built a simple hermitage on this brow of the hill in the 6th Century. The much developed structure has once more become a home for birds and, no doubt, other small creatures who find access to the ruin. Ivies grow where they will upon the roof and walls, and, all around the building, wild flowers - such as double-headed daffodils, snowdrops and Wood anemones - grow in careless freedom in the spring. Saplings have seeded themselves. Thick brambles yield abundant fruit in summer. Walking on from here, you can look through a break in the hedgerow, downwards onto Pembroke town; and, conversely, from the old town walls or from the railway platform, you can see the tall church spire as a feature on the southern horizon.
I make my own way to this site each spring. It’s said that there was once a holy well here – where now the lofty spire rises from the place.

drink hangs from a rope
hand over hand it swings
into the daylight