25th May 2021 Inspired by a walk on 23rd May 2021
A picnic once at this, the path’s highest point:
A posh affair with unwise plates
For here, scattered, brittles of Willow Pattern!
And, cliffed above the glass green sea,
Somebody broke at least a brace
Of chunky Burton beer bottles.
I never knew this history until now
Because only just has someone,
With the easiness of hydraulics,
Bladed down to the blackline bracken roots
And exposed this layer of all-forgotten truth.
Their purpose, to pare away the manyyear walker-stumbling ruts
Worn by a battalion’s worth of passing boots.
Remnants of Victorian victualling?
Legacy of Edwardians eating?
Or do these finds of mine
Only just edge over the century?
Perhaps this was a final tryst,
A special last lunch with this favourite view
For folk who knew the all-to-soon of parting:
As they bit and chewed, gossiped and gulped,
Wiped hoppy fob from Sunday Best shaved upper lips,
Did they silently think of soon ships,
While patriotically glibbing that over-by-Christmas tommy rot?
© Christopher Jessop 2021
