Inspired by the walk on October 17^th

I got up on Sunday
A day of respite
A lazy lolling day
Filled with things put off
And everything on hold
To breakfast quickly
To meet with others
At the foot of the memorial
To retrace the steps
Of a former passenger
Of the Great Northern Line.
With him arrive  
Alight lightly
Fleeing the metropolis
To walk the final mile
Along arcades of scented lime
To the steepled church.
Gazing down the hill
To the farm and red-bricked house beyond,
Liberated by the space,
The rolling fields and woods
Illuminated between the trees
To pause, to dream, to muse,
To weave the tapestry of time.

Don Courtman