Pictures taken in St Giles churchyard, Wrexham and a poem written at the grave of Elihu Yale, founder of Yale University.

At the grave of Elihu Yale.

Born in America, in Europe bred.

Summer rain, warm

Fragrance of mown grass.

Droplets cling

To hand and lens.

Weathered stones upon this hill,

Sightless eyes gazing out,

The bustling town below.

Within this place, peace.

Eternal sleep.  Raindrops

On ancient slabs and

Glowering yew trees.

In Africa travelled, and

In Asia wed.

A New World, fortune reaped and

A league of ivy sown.

Returning at last to

An old world to die.

Soot black leaves, the

Shade of everlasting slumber.

Where long he lived and

Thrived in London

Dead.

Here he reclines

With Elsie Booth and

Emmanuel Purdey.

Pillars of the community,

Supporting now a

Verdant swathe.

Entrance to Mr. Lewis’s vault.

No need for first names in

Life following death.

Smell sweet and

Blossom in the silent dust.

A haven from the

Morning rush.

Manmade heaven in

Masonic stone.