Oh the joy of the waiting hour at sunset, upon the White Cart as she shines her yellow light to say goodnight
Another moon comes and shines on the same river, like two old men, never to meet.
The hours pass and the children play and scream, while the ghosts of the Abbey chants of the night still heard, yet unheard.
The Town Hall clock lends its eyes and chimes the 9th hour,
The young men stumble home from the pub and the old men light up their cigarettes for their walk home.
faded memories of Victorians in shaded statues, casting long shadows and tales.
Laus Deo – it is done, and higher we are lifted.