The Lady of Shalott

Small deviation this morning; I walked on the sunny side of the street.

In the distance I can hear the council's contractor busy strimming the grass verge. Such a shame, just thinking of the wild barley, oats and rye all to be cut down in the next hour or so.

On either side the river lie,
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky,
And through the field the road runs by to
To many towered Camelot,
Up and Down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies grow,
Round an island there below,
The island of Shallot.

All came flooding back to me as I gazed at the grass; had to learn it for a poetry competition at school some 60 odd years ago. Can remember it still. (well the first verse anyways).