Lawrence Hall
Dispatches
for the Colonial Office
You Were Dancing Up the Lane
In an old lawn chair I sat
and dozed
And felt amber dusk sealing the
day
Though I was weary and my
eyes were half-closed
I heard you – you, whistling a
romantic lay
You were skipping barefoot up
the lane
Your skirt all a-dance for
your heart’s desire
O Lady-Queen of our happy demesne
With flowers for me, your most
devoted squire
I awoke, I blinked – I was
all alone -
The sun had set on us, many
years gone
But I saw you dancing up the
lane…
