24/10/2026
Sweet Pent Flow Softly
From Danton Farm to Folkestone’s harbourside,
The watercourse winds down towards the sea;
Now largely hidden from the public gaze,
It still has the power to distress you and me.
Imprisoned in pipes by Channel Tunnel,
Passing through Morehall and Three Hills Park,
It weaves its way alongside new housing,
Appears and disappears at different marks.
Beside the metal footbridge at Broadmead
It resurfaces in Lower Radnor Park,
Where it glides and ambles beneath tall trees
That screen the glinting sun and pierce the dark.
Empty crisp packets and chocolate wrappers
Lie wedged among the stream stroked rocks,
Ivy draped grotto manifests neglect,
Moss stained stones and stagnant water mock.
But, vouchsafed by Victorian forebears,
It remains a quiet refuge from the race;
Where scurrying squirrels pursue their tails
And jackdaw and magpie compete for space.
Dog walkers tramp along the muddy track
That leads to paved Pavilion Road,
And one last glimpse of curved rivulet,
By fence at foot of Red Cow garden flowed.
No more source of fresh water for the town,
No more driving force for Foord Road mill,
No more home on planks for fishing folk,
Shoved underground a shopping need to fill.
From Tontine Street beneath the fountains,
It meets returning tide by harbour wall;
A quiet end perhaps, but still pent up threat
In times of storm and flood that may yet call.