| The Poetry of Richard Sansom Published by The British Sansom Society | |
 
| |
On the Train Suddenly we are aware that things are flashing by us, golden orbs and spires, scenes of fabulous hue and heat, minarets of silver , gardens of passion and light, as if we're on a train seeing these things as they pass..... They are gone, we look back to see, and they are out of sight. How ironic that the train then turns round a bend, and now we see a valley, distant, deep and green, seemingly beyond our reach, and it moves slowly, like the hands of a clock on the sky, and yet it is there. We have the chance to seep into its verdure and rest. | |
| BACK TO TOP OF PAGE |