Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
I will remember you, you orange sky
West from the window of the train I watch
Amazed that in this latter age the touch...
Chivalrous feelings restrain
A chap who is your worshipper
And yet the fact must remain...
