So, I’ll go no more a-roving,
From Salisbury to reach,
(by Blandford Forum hoving),
Lulworth’s lonely, magic beach.
For childhood gave a when and where,
You can never quite regain.
You’re doomed to fail to get there,
If you ever try again.
This year I sought my boyhood joy,
With Mrs M. and hound.
To show them where I’d joyed as boy,
That joy soon ran aground!
Back then, we’d rush from slumber snug,
To pack the car apace,
With picnic, deckchairs, tartan rug,
And windbreak (just in case).
We’d ramble down some rural road.
As the map got Mum perplexed.
While Dad drove more and more like Toad,
And his language got quite vexed.
So on by Wareham, Studland, Corfe,
The tension grew and growed.
Then, just before they called it off,
We’d reach the end of road.
We’d park the car, we’d scale the rise,
And there my Heaven lay.
A lonely cove with endless skies,
Where I could swim all day.
For me, fore’er, a place apart.
I thought to share my love.
This year they loved it. ‘Break my heart!’,
T’was not my Lulworth Cove.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Alas, Alas, the only thing that rings true in this world is that nothing lasts forever.
Verse 5- Suggestion.
A ramble down some rural road.
Mum thought the map was all Greek
While Dad got more and more like Toad
And his language got quite keech.
P.S. Enjoyed your legalese on the law regarding ladders. 🙂
Thank you, JM!
JM, it was lucky you were not mistaken for a fossil! 😉
Did you ever go to Lulworth Castle? Interesting family history. The Weld-Blundell family, recusants and apparently descended from Eadric the Wild, re-emerged in London where they were ‘English Merchants’, aka grocers before Humphrey became Lord Mayor of London in 1608. His grandson bought Lulworth in 1641. Descendant, Thomas Weld joined the priesthood in 1821 following the death of his wife and eventually became a Cardinal. The family donated the land at Stoneyhurst College, in Lancashire, to the Jesuits, following the French revolution. Thomas’s brother Joseph Weld, all but invented modern yacht racing and founded the Royal Yacht Squadron on the Isle of Wight. He played a significant role in the inaugural America’s Cup.
The Blundell name was added after a large inheritance. I have tried, without complete success, to make a connection to the famous Blundells of Liverpool, both of which families came from ‘oop north’. The Liverpool bunch were heavily involved in the slave trade, but one, Bryan Blundell, also founded the Blue Coat School for orphans, so was not entirely bad.
Blundell was dropped as a name at some point.
The magnificent Castle itself was nearly destroyed by fire in 1929 and only restored in 1970.
JM: Like your pome, Your peaceful swim may have been periodically disturbed by loud noises coming from the East. It could have been me, I spend some time during the early sixties at the ranges next door lobbing shells into the sea.
It’s a very lovely part of the country, and one I visit quite often these days. I have to admit I rarely get to see the Jurassic coast, but it’s on my list to re-visit.
LW, good evening.
Aye weel, you missed me! I returned to Bonnie Scotland in September 1960 when Dad retired from the Army.
Even if we had shared the same time as well as space, you have to remember that Dad, as a senior Sapper in Southern Command, usually knew when all would be quiet on the Dorset ranges and that’s when we Lulworthed.
A magic corner of my boyhood world. It was a real regret this year that we could not find enough time for Bovington which Dad took me to whenever he could. Just for me, you understand, and not for himself.
We got as far as the car park this time but it was less than an hour to closing.
No problem. I’ll plan it better next time. I owe it to Dad’s memory.
Wonderful poem, Mr Mackie. Very much like Betjeman in a way.
christopher, good evening.
Kind of you to say that but it needs work. I am flattered that you thought of Betjeman. One of my favourite poets.
In truth, it came from another source. The ‘mad, bad and dangerous to know’ George Gordon, Lord Byron.
‘So, we’ll go no more a-roving.’
Casting aside my wig and gavel temporarily, my family’s 1947 holiday in Bournemouth should have included a day at Lulworth Cove but the signs warned us that the area was MOD property, riddled with explosive devices and extremely dangerous. 😦