Five OClock Shadow
This is the time of day when we in the Men's
Think "one more surge of the pain and I give up the fight."When he who struggles for breath can struggle less strongly:
This is the time of day which is worse than night.
A haze of thunder hangs on the hospital rose-beds,
A doctors' foursome out on the links is played,
Safe in her sitting-room Sister is putting her feet up:
This is the time of day when we feel betrayed.
Below the windows, loads of loving
Rev in the car park, changing gear at the bend,
Making for home and a nice big tea and the telly:"Well, we've done what we can.
It can't be long till the end."This is the time of day when the weight of
Is harder to bear than a sharp incision of steel.
The endless anonymous croak of a cheap
Intensifies the lonely terror I feel.
Sir John Betjeman
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Was it worth keeping the Halt open, We thought as we looked at the Red through the spread of the cedar-tree, With the evening train gone by
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Isn't she lovely, the Mistress With her wide-apart grey-green eyes, The droop of her lips and, when she smiles, Her glance of amused surprise
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She died in the upstairs By the light of the ev'ning That shone through the plate glass From over Leamington
The Licorice Fields At Pontefract
In the licorice fields at My love and I did And many a burdened licorice Was blooming round our feet;
