This poem was written in 1987 by Bruce Munro at Elm Grove Sanctuary, four years after it was founded by Edwin & Laurel Lloyd-Jones.


…ahh…’twas like a dream shrouded in the mists of time

where earth mother smiles.

I remember … ah … yes, but that was yesterday …

and I saw them come with wondrous eyes they looked upon me,

this land, and loved it much.

Has such time passed by … can it be so?

When work is but a labour of love, time has no meaning.

The garden here now nurtures its people – even through the thorns!

It bears fruit to grow and give …Twilight deepens …

The bees have had their day …

and the quiet, sits comfortably in the valley

where the trees whisper to each other of the day,

being but a blink to them who have seen the Light,

the light … from the old homestead …

within those wondrous boughs … and in that lamp lit doorway

Our Lady of the Elms

in her long flowing gown of yesteryear

and spring flowers in her hair … still … she stands,

her gaze toward the light of that silver orb twinkling

in that rushing bubbling water near the meeting place with another …

Today a lady oft is seen amongst those sentinels – she,

who was born this day, when … ah,

but it seemed like yesterday … Yesterday when roamed

those four legged monsters (with itchy backsides),

I heard those trees call out! …

and yet how strangely forgiving they be …

Tales also tell of the man that won the heart of the lady –

a broad, strong man of ruddy complexion,

though seldom seen now is his old friend standing at twilight

with foot on knee his back to trunk same colour as he.

For today a young and melodious sapling stirs the old leaves

at the place of the moon

and is often seen shepherding a flock of the sometimes squabbling,

scurrying creatures that come and go to this place …

yet for each, in their own way a mark is left …

ahh … ’twas but yesterday … I was here …

in my dreams.