Dark,dark times when these island shores of sandy bays
Became a tin prison of closed doors and walls.
Camp 60’s chapel built with endless resource
Of throw away wood, metal and tin.
Warmth and peace alongside grey war fuelled concrete sea barriers.
Simple, bold designs of blues and golden yellows
And copied figures of religious finesse to rival any village Italian chapel.
History sits here of worship and search for greater purpose
Than sheer existence on these wild ,rugged shores.