My travels this summer brought me back home to England for a family visit. History informs the future, and I delve into mine whenever possible. 

All Saints Church is a small chapel on the outskirts of Keyworth, Nottinghamshire. I visited the grounds on two occasions – first on a solitary run early in the morning, and later during an evening stroll with my aunt.

The church was founded one thousand years ago by villagers who used whatever materials they could to erect an inceptive structure. The building is still in use today, while the property is littered with trees and gravestones dating back to the eighteenth century. Wandering amongst the memorials was a journey back through modern British history.

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
Where we give thanks for daily breath.
Here some saints rest and some saints pray
In midst of life we are in death.

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
As summer blooms it feels December.
All wrapped in green the pale grey
These thousand years so few remember. 

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
A boy of twenty and four more
Passed in France and left one day
His parents to bemoan the war.

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
Two lovers sleep near side by each.
In wed and kin and toil and play
Together now to heaven reach.

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
Which gives a pause for dreams and fears. 
It’s future wonders, come what may
As ages rush between the years. 

At Keyworth there a chapel lay
Where we give thanks for daily breath.
Here some saints rest and some saints pray
In midst of life we are in death.