We walk beneath the trees that wear their leaves
Like crowns of martyred saints, as they look down
Upon the still fresh grass. Above still weaves
The long declining vapour trail of town
Talking earnestly
Miss Lembke and me.

Talking of the sad days that lay behind;
Pacing out steps in unisons slow time
While the Common, with fate conspires to find
Some way to make two destinies combine
What we feel but cannot see
Ursula Lembke and me.

Fearful to let the moment pass, in what
May be a world let slip because of something
Said, or not said, to make the balance not
Quite right. Another bell and its false ring.
How can we know what we should be?
Ursula lembke and me.

The fading light falls on the moving sails
Of toy boats on the pond, and circling boys
With nets on sticks to fill their waiting pails.
We walk the other way and leave their noise
hand in hand, trustingly,
Ursula Lembke and me.

By the lamplight we hear a far off chime
And pause to summarise the evening’s bliss;
A token offered for eternal time,
But now there is no time, and so we kiss.

1952/May 1991.