English Walks Poem by james watkin
English Walks
English walks most posh are villages';
In nostalgia, dolled up.
Manners soften in their autumn's light
As though their old ghosts are heard aright!
To late to profit from charm's 'ye olde';
Too late is a new town
As a fort of interest, a cauldron
Of pungent morbid fascination.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: england,village
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8/27/2025 6:27:34 PM # 1.0.0
