Park Bench Tales and other writings

Thoughts and writings reflecting the poet within and the activist


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The Halls of the Forgotten

The Halls of the Forgotten

Peacocks and hens strutting around in superiority

As if the challenge of our presence was an insult

Wandering between picnic tables seeking crumbs

Becoming braver by the minute and closer

I sense my cornetto ice cream has been espied

Their diet now extends beyond seeds and corn

In the background are the remains of a hall

The magnificence in stone is now a ghost in ruins

Names are to be found in the history of wealth

Though how the fortunes changed is mystery

Now only the skeleton of a stately home remains

The Italian influences show around the stone

Holding the secrets of more glorious times

A hall where nobles once sat and feasted

Lies cold and bare the tapestries are gone

No more shall minstrels play upon their lutes

The long gallery where her ladyship did walk

Now open to the heavens only the walls remain

Rooms ravaged by the storms over years

Ceilings collapsed with plaster strewn on floors

Windows that survived covered with dirt

An aged beauty decaying from lack of love

Beyond the hall keen eyes can search

To see the foundations of the village

Removed because an owner disliked the view

These sites that draw me to them each year

To see the glimpse of a past preserved

Stone and mortar are the memory we have

But hidden within the walls are stories untold

The lives of those in the halls of the forgotten

Whose tales would surely add interest to the scene

Copyright: David Hopcroft December 2025

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