Uploaded November 2020 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago

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OLD AMERSHAM

By P B Taylor

I

Time runs so slowly
In this farming town
Ancient buildings so grey are mousey
So agricultural and so quiet

Stolid trees so green in the park
Their heads stiffly silently nod
For nothing is inside them
Everything in the village false

II

The houses have spread like a cholera
Yet the old town remains quaint
Preserving its memories to the sun
And opened-up, there remains little:


III

But a faded improvised stage
On which is written a saga of another age

Amersham August 1973