My marvellous Kent Claret vine ... I bought it from Victoriana Nursery to keep my ever-faithful calendulas company. Friend Wendy recommends the grapes for grape jelly.

Happy harvesting … my Great Auntie Bee's watercolour of farming life as it used to be, painted in 1950.

The creative mind in action … Coppicing days, Pheasants Coppice, Bishopsbourne.

History …In the garden of Serre de la Madonne, Menton. Seems I wasn’t the only admirer.

Happy birthday! ... My 50th Birthday Party 9th September 2010 at Jenny's, also with Hilda, Becca, Vittorio, Robin and Yvonne and Bianca - Caprese Michelangelo, Toscana. A very special day.

Birthday girl ... Mrs G picking flowers on the morning of her 80th Birthday, a few seconds before she realised that I had arrived.

Roberto opens a window on ancient Wye, offering a glimpse of the history of that gorgeous corner of the kingdom, its religion, farming, the lush orchards, and the commanding oast houses, the wildlife, and the astonishing views of the heavens.

The Wye business community website has announced that copies of this new poem will be on offer on Saturday, 4th November, at the Wye Farmer’s Market, where Roberto will be appearing.

The community website says, 'His recent poem West Window reflects on the historical past of Wye and the very foundations that moulded the village we have today.

'Through his talent Robert weaves in words that which is depicted in the beautiful window of our Parish Church. It's a tribute to all that has gone before.'

The poem, illustrated by Ann Sutherland has been reproduced as an A3 print and comes packed with its own hard-backed envelope making it an ideal gift to send to friends and loved ones.

The print is also available from Ticketyboo.


West Window - St Gregory and St Martin Church, Wye


Since ancient saints went flying,
When the landmine shattered glass,
A brave new western window,
Shows Wye present and Wye past.


As every ploughman vanished,
When the round, red tractors came,
Adams all, are still recalled,
In this quiet sunset pane.


As Kentish apples ripen,
Hired help from hungrier lands,
Now climb those shrinking ladders,
Bringing harvests home in hands.


Tall yacht-like sails of oast house,
Riding rounded, tiling tops,
Now sail our stranger seasons,
Over homes and vanished hops.


Red squirrel, crocus, magpie,
Below oaks where sheep still graze,
By guarding shade and sheepdog,
And the ageless shepherds gaze.


Since fourteen forty-seven,
Close to heart, in unrobed hands,
John holds his college casket,
These jewels sown, in many lands.


The clouds will journey always,
Over field and chalky crown,
The kingless, Kentish kingdom,
Of Wye Valley and Wye Downs.

Written by Robert Graham and Illustrated by Ann Sutherland

Robert Graham's | Email | Wye, Ashford, Kent TN25 5DD | © 2000 - 2018