Stale buns hug ham and pease,
As the dark night sky draws ever near,
Deep thoughts reflected in Betjeman please,
But relax, I do, with my friend Lear.
As I savour all that is soft,
Mouth full but no words to say,
The moon doth climb aloft,
And bids the sun good day.
The empty plate draws me to thirst,
Through the trees the wind doth pass,
The day gone and seen its worst,
But I hope it is not the las’.
Thoughts look to tomorrows first light,
And dreams of adventures and joy so deep,
Alas first must pass the night,
Only hastened through ideas of sleep.
As I count ewes and rams over stile,
I thank the Lord for kind summer days,
And lie awake in my chamber awhile,
Thinking forward to the morning haze.
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