Old England passing by ( Oundle UK 2016 )

Narrow streets frustrate the driver
yet,so please the eye, we let the bus pass
unhindered on its way to Thrapston
with its white stone arch crossing the Nene
five miles up stream,Islip on the nether bank
Narrow frontages to beat the rates
long deep houses cheek by cheek,
walled gardens, secret from prying eyes
flat roof and pitch,tile and thatch
in glorious confusion, extemporised
each feeling for its nieghbour
blending, no thought of competition
windows of the same,doors and sky-lights
yield no clues of wealth or status
the tradesman and the banker cheek by jowl
live behind the walls and Wisteria blue,
while in the streets we shop and gossip
make the traffic wait and grumble
forgetting we too are drivers.
By four the streets are quiet
most have bought their bread and local meat
sit in street-side cafe, tea with cup and saucer.
Pupils from the public school
girls in trouser-suits wide legged,discrete
boys in matching blazers time warped
in the land of squire and spire,
Old England passing by in evening cricket matches
midst wheat,and beans,and bridle ways.