Here you can find photographs and links to videos of past events
Tours of the newly restored bell tower
The Friends made a generous donation in support of the Ledbury Bells Project. Since the completion of the work several special tours have been offered, allowing Friends to see the ringing room and the belfry and, for the bravest, giving an opportunity to see the unrivalled view from the parapet of the tower.
Ledbury Open Gardens Summer 2020
Sadly due to the Covid pandemic this event could not take place. Many of our Ledbury gardeners, however, found solace in producing wonderful displays of flowers which they are delighted to share with you photographically. In spite of the lack of a cream tea to accompany your virtual visit we hope you will feel able to show your appreciation by making a small donation! How to Give
Burns' Night 2020
Poetry Festival 2019
The Friends invited aspiring poets to write poems inspired by a number of different objects of interest in the church. Some examples are below, with the objects which inspired them.
Last Supper
And how would I feel
If asked to serve this last meal?
Could I pass over the feast of Passover,
Ignore forbidden yeast, barley, oats
The aromas of hot bread, the pools of butter
And serve maror, vinegar, salt and bitter
Tastes of Egypt and of slaves
Instead roasted, boiled eggs reborn as
Omelettes, gratins, fritada, caponata
Aubergine, swiss chard, parmesan, feta,
Pomegranate, potatoes, olive and chilli
Croquettes, tagines, kugels, latkes, pampushki,
Almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts,
Custards, bubaleh, koopeta, amaretti,
My banquet last supper, fit for a king.
Helen I’Anson
And how would I feel
If asked to serve this last meal?
Could I pass over the feast of Passover,
Ignore forbidden yeast, barley, oats
The aromas of hot bread, the pools of butter
And serve maror, vinegar, salt and bitter
Tastes of Egypt and of slaves
Instead roasted, boiled eggs reborn as
Omelettes, gratins, fritada, caponata
Aubergine, swiss chard, parmesan, feta,
Pomegranate, potatoes, olive and chilli
Croquettes, tagines, kugels, latkes, pampushki,
Almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts,
Custards, bubaleh, koopeta, amaretti,
My banquet last supper, fit for a king.
Helen I’Anson
Parenthood (The Skynner Tomb)
We wonder how our children will remember us.
When, if, they erect our monuments,
Will they recall the old itch of those injustices, great and small,
Rising again from childhood?
Our busyness, unnecessary rules and pompous certainty?
Points of principle held too firm? Hypocrisy?
When, in those subtle but important moments,
We missed the chance to praise, or praised too much?
Or how we wanted them to do great things
That our own frailties denied us,
Not seeing that to love and launch is enough?
And these sons, Richard and William,
As England moved to execute a king, father of the whole realm,
Did they remain obedient to the fifth commandment?
Prosperity and piety, fecundity and mutual devotion are all there,
Honoured in stone and prominence of place.
But in this formal grouping, children mirroring parental rectitude,
Is space left for the personal? Perhaps.
A dead child speaks simply, deeply, of shared grief,
And that wondrous hat, so surprising
In its jaunty magnificence,
Shows, maybe, in love and gentle mockery
How children might forgive.
Tim Keyes
We wonder how our children will remember us.
When, if, they erect our monuments,
Will they recall the old itch of those injustices, great and small,
Rising again from childhood?
Our busyness, unnecessary rules and pompous certainty?
Points of principle held too firm? Hypocrisy?
When, in those subtle but important moments,
We missed the chance to praise, or praised too much?
Or how we wanted them to do great things
That our own frailties denied us,
Not seeing that to love and launch is enough?
And these sons, Richard and William,
As England moved to execute a king, father of the whole realm,
Did they remain obedient to the fifth commandment?
Prosperity and piety, fecundity and mutual devotion are all there,
Honoured in stone and prominence of place.
But in this formal grouping, children mirroring parental rectitude,
Is space left for the personal? Perhaps.
A dead child speaks simply, deeply, of shared grief,
And that wondrous hat, so surprising
In its jaunty magnificence,
Shows, maybe, in love and gentle mockery
How children might forgive.
Tim Keyes
Questions (St Michael and the Dragon)
What were you thinking of, angels?
How did that dragon get in?
Perhaps he was disguised as an angel
In spite of that tail and weird wings.
Did God stand by watching the battle?
Was he controlling who wins?
And did they need to expel him
Not help him to understand things?
And why do we only see Michael,
The only one wielding a sword?
Were the others all blowing their trumpets
While the dragon was gored?
In revenge, the dragon left heaven
For earth – there his evil to spread.
What if they’d kept him in heaven
And reformed the poor creature instead?
Antonia Goss
What were you thinking of, angels?
How did that dragon get in?
Perhaps he was disguised as an angel
In spite of that tail and weird wings.
Did God stand by watching the battle?
Was he controlling who wins?
And did they need to expel him
Not help him to understand things?
And why do we only see Michael,
The only one wielding a sword?
Were the others all blowing their trumpets
While the dragon was gored?
In revenge, the dragon left heaven
For earth – there his evil to spread.
What if they’d kept him in heaven
And reformed the poor creature instead?
Antonia Goss
