Happisburgh is a pretty, ancient coastal village, battered by the North Sea at the top of Norfolk, a place where smugglers were known to land their boats and stash their booty. For more than two hundred years, villagers and visitors to the area reported seeing a glowing figure of a man dressed in the clothes […]
Tag: Happisburgh
More of the Happisburgh story
On the Brink of Nature Once separated From the sea by a parish Long ago abraded, A village clings to the brink Of sandy layer-cake cliffs. The coastline crumbles And slumps Towards the sea, Worried by waves That weave sea-tangle With beach debris: Severed heads of conduits, Limbs of sea defences, Rubble and concrete Replaced […]
A poem prompted by a striking local landmark
Lighthouse at Happisburgh Beacon in a turnip field Warns Of storms And danger On the sands No rocks here Just crumbling Cliff and beach Since the Ice Age A village that fears The forces of nature Over two hundred years Of refracted light and fierce Storms battering the staunch tower All the while the sea […]
writing in north norfolk 