It was a rusty morning on Castle Street
as I sat at a table to appease my feet.
The air was soft as clouds the morning stilled
the shops and streets sat patient, unfilled.

In this place of beauty past
I reconvene the months of last.
Thoughts so many, I dare not say
I'll note them all here, lest they walk away.

These castle walls see those days are lost
Once lively tales turned to mental moss.
Memories once so rich, but now can't tell
captive in my mind like a prisoner in a cell.

But the door is unlocked, feel free to come in
ask what you like, I'll give you the spin.

Sam Evans
Oxford Castle
18 Oct 2006

Originally written to start a Journal entry, I never got around to finishing the entry. I thought I'd post it, though, because it's still true.