Canterbury

The top of the cathedral glows warm in the sun,

Marking the minutes when the days nearly done,

Until the spires alone seemed tipped with gold

And then, in a moment, even they will lose hold.

A movement to seven and the clock tower sounds,

And the cool of the evening that settles in the grounds,

And the smells of the city, the blossoming trees

And newly mown trimmings that are blown by the breeze.

Of Samuel and Alice remembered by this seat,

I cared not, for I, happy and complete,

Was here with my loved one, in the city I love,

My heart drifting slowly with the clouds far above.