At Clearbrook Lodge by twilight's grace,
Jemma's smile lit up the place.
Talk of trails and paddling dreams,
Of leafy paths and tranquil streams.
We claimed our space, then Sarn appeared,
The talk of land both loved and weird
Where rowing boats await the breeze
And paddle boards skim willow trees.
The gardens called us Saturday morn,
With blooms in sun, where steps were worn.
We vowed to watch the falcons' flight
On future days of feathered might.
Sunday drifted, slow and kind,
With BBQs and peace of mind.
While Monday's chip-salt kissed the skin,
On Pendine sands where laughs begin.
Tuesday’s wetlands soaked our feet,
Cranes waltzed through the grasses sweet
A feather found, now proudly placed,
A badge of nature, finely graced.
Wednesday brought a second chance,
To see the falcons swoop and dance.
Then gardens bloomed beneath our stride,
With nature walking by our side.
Thursday’s waves and dolphin cheer,
From Oxwich Bay to Worm’s Head near.
The seals blinked slow, the seabirds skimmed,
While laughter rode the ocean’s wind.
A stop at heritage, mill and stream,
With Welsh cawl’s warmth and cider's gleam.
We walked through stories, old and bright,
In leet-fed halls of shared delight.
And now we pack with hearts aweight,
For leaving dreams we’d love to wait.
Clearbrook whispers in the air
“Come back, and find your stories there.”