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.