By Heather J Morris
(with apologies to Henry Austin Dobson and his poem ‘The Old Sedan-Chair)
It stands in the old churchyard under the trees
It’s seen better days than this, so I believe.
It once was the pride, where the people would meet
The old Copley church was once proud of this seat.
It’s battered and tattered: its seat and its back
Are remnants of all it once stood for in fact.
It witnessed the weddings, the baptisms too
The death and demise of some folks just like you
But little by little its function subsides
The church now abandoned it rides with the tide.
Now only dog walkers and hikers like me
Stop here for a moment, take time just to see.