Love, to a Fault!
They met at the Station of Henley Scarp
Set deep in the countryside,
He told her he'd meet her in London Town
When the hue and the cry had died,
The train pulled in with a blast of steam,
The carriages ground to a halt,
He was sure to tell her to change her train
When she pulled in at Bishops Fault.
They stood at the empty platform then,
And ventured a parting kiss,
He'd always remember the touch of her lips
As a promise of future bliss,
The guard appeared with his little flag
And signalled the train away,
As he hurried on back to the waiting car
On that fresh, first day in May.
He checked his watch, it was four o'clock,
They wouldn't have missed him yet,
He'd need to be back in the servant's hall
Before the sun had set,
He'd planned to travel by minor roads,
By farms and bullock tracks,
It was only an hour and a quarter there,
And then he could relax.
The sun was settling rather low,
The light had begun to fade,
He cursed at the rutted cattle tracks
And the dust trail that he made,
He gripped the wheel with a sudden fear
That turned his knuckles white,
As the Riley bounced and it slid out there,
Unsure, in the fading light.
He found his way to the highway then
With a mile or so to go,
No matter how fast he drove, it seemed
He was only going slow,
And then he saw in the mirror there
The blue and flashing light,
The sound of a siren, chasing him,
His face was pale and white!
The tyre that blew at the corner, sent
Him cannoning off the wall,
Into the trunk of an ancient oak
At the gates of Mourden Hall,
They pulled him out of the twisted wreck
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
