More complex than our mind is nature green

The River Lee still murmurs as it flows

Waltham abbey, Eleanor her cross

In the sun, the kingfisher still glows.

Through the fields the river sings her song.

There are grassy banks where we once rolled.

Is there still an innocence of heart?

The shepherd guides the flock into the fold.

In the abbey crypt the sacred dwells

Near the yew trees and king Harold’s grave.

Once there would have been the sound of bells

And in-our hearts we felt that Jesus saves

Let the world receive the humble child.

Who can see the gods in,this world wild?