I cross it twice almost each day,

But never stop, and never stay

To look at what this vision holds.

I’m always late, or it’s too cold.

Today’s the day to right that wrong,

I won’t waste time, I won’t be long.

I’ll stand right here, halfway across,

My hands upon this wall of moss.

The river runs beneath my feet.

It’s brown and thick with fish to eat

For birds who dive deep down below,

The gulls, the ducks, a swan like snow.

My eyes move right and see the trees.

Great soldiers, stoic in the breeze,

Staring ahead at cars that rush

Along the road in one big crush.

They ruin the view of this fair town,

Their engines roar so loud they drown

Cathedral bells which now ring out,

Look over here at me, they shout.

It’s true, it is a stunning sight,

Its dark blonde stone, its towering height,

Its carvings, gargoyles, white-faced clock,

Huge wooden door to greet its flock.

My eyes run down the hundred stairs

Where a fountain rises in the airs,

And arcs its back in gushing glee,

The cold spray making walkers flee.

Then finally I can’t ignore

A spectacle from days of yore.

The castle high upon the hill,

Its presence standing this day still.

How many men built this vast mass

Of grey slate towers with moat of grass?

The pride of many hundred years.

With grace, across the town it peers.

I can’t move on, I’m stuck here now.

I wonder why, I wonder how

I’ve missed all this a thousand times,

Not seen those curves, nor seen those lines,

Walked past it all, not looking up,

Nor drinking from this splendid cup

Of birds and trees and stone and slate.

This view I will now celebrate.