Bunbury, an ancient Cheshire village, south east of Beeston Castle

Bunbury Church

St. Boniface Church

In the cool of the spring, life returns to this place.
A graveyard of history, or legends to embrace.

If only they could talk, what tales to tell there'd be.
Underneath the stones, there for all to see.

A headless man was buried, within this very ground.
It could be him you hear, and not that of a hound.

For out one night he was, with thieving on his mind.
Had his head chopped off, as payment of his kind.

But once the deed was done, a squire he's found to be.
Now it was too late - the culprits had to flee.

So who crept in the night, and put his body there?
It could be the very same, who initiated the dare.

Bunbury Locks

Bunbury Lock

Canal boats coursing waters
rippling over the calm.
Soon they reach the locks
stopping in sudden alarm.

The gates are closed
no entrance to gain,
and waiting below
is one just the same.

For only two
go side by side
as in the water
they do glide.

The water fills up
and then it goes down.
Taking the barges
onto the town.

On reaching the bottom
or possibly the top.
It must continue its journey
before it can stop.

Nature At Bunbury Mill

How come you have six petals,
when others only five?
Are you truly a dog rose,
or imposter in its clothes?

You look the very same,
just like the real thing.
Maybe something happened
in the early spring.
 rhyme traveller bud

The Dog Rose

Like stars clothed in pink beside the millpond,
your faces look up - to the sun they respond.

Veins that are tempting to creatures nearby.
If they are not eaten by a swift dragonfly!

With centres all changing from yellow to brown
as the season moves on you're losing your crown.

Out of your centre so big and bold,
an enormous rose hip we now do behold.

Though round and green you'll soon be ripe.
The seeds inside are the picking type.

Full of vitamins for people to eat. 
My! What a lovely autumn treat!

Those bulbous eyes and tiny teeth.
A poor little fly lying beneath.
Before my eyes you caught your prey
gliding up and down without delay.

rhyme traveller poppy pod

Poppy Pod

One so bright and colourful
in vibrant red or pink.
Now with petals gone
you're coming to the brink.

With centre full of seeds
so nearly ready to pop.
I see that you are really
the last one of the crop.

All their rims are open
yours are tightly closed.
Is this why the spider
he is neatly posed?

Once you have freed them
and there are cavities below.
I think this little creepy
inside them then will go.