The Sentinel of Stone
Grey stone stands high against the driving gale,
A fortress carved from chalk and ancient bone.
Above the strait where ships and navy’s sail,
The Gateway to England guards her realm alone.
A fortress carved from chalk and ancient bone.
Above the strait where ships and navy’s sail,
The Gateway to England guards her realm alone.
Yet deep within this shield of flint and might,
Where banners flew and heavy armour rang,
A hidden garden catches summer light,
Where once the Raven birds of Kentish sang.
Where banners flew and heavy armour rang,
A hidden garden catches summer light,
Where once the Raven birds of Kentish sang.
Locked safe inside the castle’s rugged breast,
The Kitchen Garden thrives in sheltered soil.
While empires clashed upon the windy crest,
The earth gave quiet peace to daily toil.
The Kitchen Garden thrives in sheltered soil.
While empires clashed upon the windy crest,
The earth gave quiet peace to daily toil.
For sweet peas bloom beside the limestone wall,
And heritage roots run deep beneath the sun.
A soft green refuge where the shadows fall,
When battles of the ancient keep are done.
And heritage roots run deep beneath the sun.
A soft green refuge where the shadows fall,
When battles of the ancient keep are done.
Still stands the fortress on the cliffside steep,
To bar the path of any foreign foe—
A giant watchman staring at the deep,
While at its heart, the gentle blossoms grow.
To bar the path of any foreign foe—
A giant watchman staring at the deep,
While at its heart, the gentle blossoms grow.
The Guard and the Garden
High on the hill, Dover Castle stands,
A great stone guard above the sea.
The gateway to our English lands,
As safe and strong as it can be.
The gateway to our English lands,
As safe and strong as it can be.
Yet deep inside the heavy walls,
Away from wars and iron keys,
The gentle kitchen garden shadows fall,
On growing plants and busy bees.
Away from wars and iron keys,
The gentle kitchen garden shadows fall,
On growing plants and busy bees.
Safe in the soil, the flowers bloom,
And green leaves climb the ancient stone.
While soldiers fought in cold and gloom,
This quiet ground grew food alone.
And green leaves climb the ancient stone.
While soldiers fought in cold and gloom,
This quiet ground grew food alone.
It is a shield against the deep,
To keep the home safe from the foe.
But inside where the watchmen sleep,
The sweet and quiet blossoms grow.
To keep the home safe from the foe.
But inside where the watchmen sleep,
The sweet and quiet blossoms grow.
Tom and the Castle Kitchen Garden
Young Tom walked up the steep green hill,
The windy air was sharp and chill.
Above him stood the Castle high,
With towers reaching to the sky.
The windy air was sharp and chill.
Above him stood the Castle high,
With towers reaching to the sky.
“This is the gateway,” said his dad,
“Where soldiers stood when times were bad.
They kept us safe from foreign ships,
With heavy shields and iron grips.”
“Where soldiers stood when times were bad.
They kept us safe from foreign ships,
With heavy shields and iron grips.”
Tom looked at walls so thick and grand,
Built long ago to guard the land.
He heard the flags flap in the breeze,
And saw the grey and choppy seas.
Built long ago to guard the land.
He heard the flags flap in the breeze,
And saw the grey and choppy seas.
But then they turned a corner round,
And walked onto a quiet ground.
Behind the stone, so safe and deep,
They found a garden fast asleep.
And walked onto a quiet ground.
Behind the stone, so safe and deep,
They found a garden fast asleep.
Bright flowers grew in neat, straight lines,
With green peas climbing up the vines.
While watchmen guarded every wall,
The gardeners made the apples fall.
With green peas climbing up the vines.
While watchmen guarded every wall,
The gardeners made the apples fall.
Tom smiled to see the secret place,
With warm sun shining on his face.
The castle was a soldier strong,
Where gentle birds now sing their song.
With warm sun shining on his face.
The castle was a soldier strong,
Where gentle birds now sing their song.
Tom and the Medieval Gardener
It had been exactly one year since Tom first stepped through the ancient stone gates of Dover Castle. On that afternoon, the modern world had melted away, and he had found himself in the quiet sanctuary of the medieval kitchen garden, but on this visit he felt a distinct presence. For months, Tom wondered if it had all been a trick of the coastal wind or a vivid day dream. He had returned to Dover today with his father, clutching the small dried seed pod he found in his pocket the morning after his first trip. As the crowds of tourists rushed past the massive stone keep, Tom split from the tour path and slipped back toward the hidden garden, wondering if it would be open for him a second time to explore.
The steep stone steps worn bare with age,
Led down beneath the history page.
Deep grooves were carved in every stride,
Where centuries of feet had died.
Led down beneath the history page.
Deep grooves were carved in every stride,
Where centuries of feet had died.
But as Tom stepped through stone and shade,
The modern world began to fade,
The modern world began to fade,
The loud tourists vanished from the view,
And suddenly the world felt new.
He turned a corner, safe and deep,
Below the mighty castle keep.
Below the mighty castle keep.
And there he saw an old man stand,
With rich brown dirt upon his hand.
With rich brown dirt upon his hand.
The man wore clothes of simple wool,
And held a wooden basket full.
And held a wooden basket full.
“Hello,” he smiled, and dropped his spade,
“Welcome to the plot I made.”
“Welcome to the plot I made.”
“The soldiers guard our English shore,
To keep the enemy from the door.
To keep the enemy from the door.
But while they watch the stormy sea,
The king’s great kitchen relies on me!
The king’s great kitchen relies on me!
I grow the leeks and cabbage green,
The sweetest roots you’ve ever seen.
The sweetest roots you’ve ever seen.
I grow the herbs for medicine too,
To cure the fever and the flu.”
To cure the fever and the flu.”
Tom smiled to see the secret place,
With warm sun shining on his face.
The castle was a soldier strong,
Where gentle gardens do belong.
With warm sun shining on his face.
The castle was a soldier strong,
Where gentle gardens do belong.