The location for this poem is the private coach road that runs between Blankney Hall and Blankney and Metheringham station. It was written in 1995.
Blankney Encounter
The day was hot and sunny
As I fended off the midge
I was walking from Blankney to Metheringham
And as I neared the hump-back bridge
I met a man with a monocle
Walking the other way
As we passed he raised his hat
And passed the time of day
'Excuse me sir, are you from this place'
The old gentleman enquired
'I knew it many years ago'
His face looked old and tired
'What happened to that fine old Hall
That stood just over there'
I told him fifty years before
It was ravished by fire, beyond repair
He said 'I remember the stables
Long before the war
What a shame they are so neglected
Don't they hunt and shoot anymore'
'Yes' said I 'they still hunt and shoot
But today it is far less grand'
A wry smile came over the old mans face
'Ah' said he 'I understand'
'At least' said he 'the school has survived
'How many pupils attend'
'None' I replied and the old man gasped
'Even that has come to an end'
He shook my hand and thanked me
And then we both walked on
I turned around to ask his name
But strangely he was gone
That night by the fire, I sat and read
About the village in days of old
And as I slowly turned the page
I felt my blood run cold
For there before me, staring out
From the pages of this chronicle
The man I met whilst on my walk
Henry Chaplin and his monocle
Rodney Garlant
Blankney Encounter
The day was hot and sunny
As I fended off the midge
I was walking from Blankney to Metheringham
And as I neared the hump-back bridge
I met a man with a monocle
Walking the other way
As we passed he raised his hat
And passed the time of day
'Excuse me sir, are you from this place'
The old gentleman enquired
'I knew it many years ago'
His face looked old and tired
'What happened to that fine old Hall
That stood just over there'
I told him fifty years before
It was ravished by fire, beyond repair
He said 'I remember the stables
Long before the war
What a shame they are so neglected
Don't they hunt and shoot anymore'
'Yes' said I 'they still hunt and shoot
But today it is far less grand'
A wry smile came over the old mans face
'Ah' said he 'I understand'
'At least' said he 'the school has survived
'How many pupils attend'
'None' I replied and the old man gasped
'Even that has come to an end'
He shook my hand and thanked me
And then we both walked on
I turned around to ask his name
But strangely he was gone
That night by the fire, I sat and read
About the village in days of old
And as I slowly turned the page
I felt my blood run cold
For there before me, staring out
From the pages of this chronicle
The man I met whilst on my walk
Henry Chaplin and his monocle
Rodney Garlant
