The Day of Saints - Day 15, Winwaloe
- Jonathan Budd
- Sep 12, 2019
- 2 min read
It was a foul afternoon. The rain had been incessant throughout the day, and when I reached Gunwalloe the spray carried off the sea by the wind added to the sense of being weathered on. On a previous visit to the cliffs above the beach I had also been rained on good and proper, so I was getting used to it. The church in Gunwalloe bay is known as the Church of the Storms, and I can understand why in such an exposed, if romantic and picturesque, spot. Many ships have been wrecked off the coast nearby.
Gunwalloe church is dedicated to St Winwaloe, about whom something, but not much, is known. He never visited Cornwall, though his parents were likely Britons who had travelled to France. He was taught by St Budoc, and reportedly gifted in healing. He founded an abbey in Landevennec in Brittany and satellites were later founded in his name. Down on the Lizard the most southerly parish church on the mainland is similarly dedicated, if with different spelling, St Wynwallow's Church, Landewednack.
This poem focusses on the church at Gunwalloe and is an attempt at something known as a Sapphic ode. I've found it a complex form to grapple with but that's all part of the learning process. If only Budoc were here...!
FOR WINWALOE
Church of Storms
Tibidy in Cornouille, isle of learning,
House of prayer, rebuilt by cold Landewednack,
Beset by sea, battling wind and wave front,
Every year holds.
Church of Storms, stay standing as holy witness,
Place of safety, landing and sacred harbour,
Meagre, yet the light of your chapel beckons;
'Hither come, find hope'.
Budoc taught the ancient Saint, your name-sake.
Who was he, the pupil of such a master?
Why is he the patron you chose to cling to,
Facing this dark tide?
If no relic treasury sits in your nest,
If no Cornish pilgrimage made he back then
Still, you're not by Winwaloe yet deserted,
Stood by his likeness.
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