It is no secret, where this road goes
So busy once with coastal flow
Is signed for all; heading north from Guide Post.
On it winds, down Bank, round bends
Where church and homes once stood
This road has carried many; in prams, on sledge, on foot.
Were some drawn to the Anglers Arms?
Or Bothal stones beyond?
More likely, is this little bridge that sits with all its charm.
Sheepwash Bridge, this resting rail
For those that journey on
Secret garden, hidden place, lies peaceful in the vale
Down the years, there’s been some fun,
Rope swings across the river,
Here couples met and families walked, to sit with duck and swan.
So to her banks we all have come
With Grans and Mams and Dads
Her weir pours over memories, always passing on.
It is no Secret what this all means
This place for not just me
Take me down to Sheepwash Bridge and here is where I’ll be.