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Ocklynge Cemetery, Sacred Resting Place of The Dearly Beloved in Hallowed Ground

Ocklynge Cemetery is to be found in the Old Town district of Eastbourne in East Sussex, on the South Coast of England. Once a thriving Victorian Seaside Resort it quickly grew into the town it is today. The etymology of Ocklynge means that it is from the Anglo-Saxon language: lynge is thought to be from 'link' or 'ridge' and the ock component is believed to have either come from 'oak', so we have a ridge of oak trees or it is thought the area might be named after 'Occa' a putative leader of a small band of Saxons in this area. The band may have been small, but it obviously lived long in the memory! Saxon graves have been found and excavated on this land before a housing estate was built in this part of Eastbourne, which was also once part of the Eastbourne Art College that I attended before it was moved to its new site on Cross Levels Way.

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The Grade II listed Ocklynge Manor is also located in this part of Eastbourne, and this land was once held by the Knights Hospitaller, as confirmed by a return dated 1338, where fifty-two acres was listed to be in their possession. But moving forwards in time, we find that Ocklynge Cemetery was opened in 1857, and is the resting place of various dignitaries, home to 174 Commonwealth War graves from World War I and II, and many other Victorian citizens who called Eastbourne their home. The most recent and yet last residents appear to be those who passed away in the 1970's up to the 1990's, as far as I can see, but that information might change as I go back for further visits.

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Ocklynge Cemetery has the quality of being like a world within a world, or an inner city of the dead, but one where a sacred heart still beats. I had known of its existence but I had never explored it, there always seemed to be other places to go. But after living in Eastbourne for more than thirty years I started to feel more like a resident, as I was born elsewhere and lived there for quite some time. But lately I have felt more attuned to the place that I now call my home town, and so I felt it was fine for me to visit this cemetery, to pay my respects, to those who had lived in Eastbourne before me.

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This resting place of the departed is now a closed cemetery, which means that it is full with no more room for burials, unless you own or have inherited a family plot with space in the grounds. I felt welcomed into this enclosed and historic place, and felt peaceful and calm within. It is so much larger than I expected and full of beautiful Gothic Victorian memorials, with War Graves of both World Wars and conflicts overseas.

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The variety and size of some of the grave memorials is staggering. There are designs from Celtic Crosses to Angels, tombs and caskets, and gravestones that are specially designed for whoever is being remembered. My first visit to this cemetery was to be in the early morning, and the light was very beautiful. I quickly realised that there was no way it could be explored in one visit, let alone two, and that this was going to be an ongoing project, where more will no doubt be discovered. So I have decided to try and organise my future visits into a 'section' and concentrate on what I find there, exploring a different section each time. It is the only way I can investigate and hopefully grace this cemetery with the justice it deserves.

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I have already placed some work from this cemetery on my Flickr Account, and you can find the link to this at the bottom of this page, but I felt that such was the material being gathered I could easily devote a separate page to this wonderful cemetery on my website here. I found it to be such an evocative place, with many intriguing memorials, each with their own story to tell that I wanted to explore more. This cemetery is already set on historic land, and there are many who are laid to rest here who helped build and establish Eastbourne into the town it is today, so I hope my small contribution here becomes a homage to them and to the history of this atmospheric cemetery.

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A Victorian Summer

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

A Victorian Summer

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I have stepped into another life

A Victorian Summer

Where I could be quite alone

Except for the gentleness

Of your breath on my cheek

That tells me you have found me again

And I know you will walk with me

Through these groves of grief

These meadows of memories

That only you and I can still reach

As they are held in trust

In recollection and remorse

While we remain connected

Through circumstance and time

Letting nature and the universe

Take its inevitable course

What do you want from me

Is it to tell me your sorrows 

While you still wander here

Do I remind you of a lost love

That was never yours

But nonetheless still yearned for

In your imagined grief?

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Womankind

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

Womankind

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Our tomb that contains our family bonds

Will not break even beyond this world

Once we graced the homes 

Of those we loved

But now we gently rest

As we are bound eternally together

We used to walk the halls of life

But now our spirits meander under the trees

While we wait for the final rapture

In a promised stasis

Until we are released

Into the loving care of Him whom we love

Above all other

Jane, Eva, Elizabeth and Julia

We are all His daughters

But for now all we have is each other

Three loving sisters

And our mother

Beyond The Veil

Beyond The Veil

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There is life and there is death

On both sides of the veil

But where I stand I am the living

Amongst the called

Nothing will create a boundary

To the dead who move at will

Or those who do not rise at all

And stay asleep steeped in grief

For time immortal

To them the branches of faith

Are just words

That shed like leaves

In a howling gale

Or in Autumn's fall

And they settle on the ground

That belongs to everyman

No matter on which side of the veil

As souls will drift from place to place

In their quest for peace and grace

As if no barriers existed at all

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Brave New World

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

Brave New World

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We were once part 

Of this brave new world

Or so we thought

But now we look out upon another

Where everything seems attuned to you

Nothing can be ripped asunder

Or so you hope

The promise of glories, splendour and joy

Occupy your constant thoughts

Into the starry night

And the wild blue yonder

But we all burn down in our lives

The candle starts to flicker low

And things suddenly do not matter

As our hearts start to slow

Instead our soul becomes our greatest treasure 

We wonder about our longevity

Measure for measure

Like us you may try to protect your spirit

In the ultimate casket

Just in case

With eight sides of harmonious perfection

Ready to move on to the next lesson

Through infinity's gate

Before it is to late

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