The Lesson of Lambeth Marsh
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I had been searching on and off for years
For a book about Lambeth Marsh of old
But every request ended in tears
For nowhere in the area was it sold
Then in Lower Marsh I was passing the door
Of a bookshop I must have missed before
So I opened the door, not even going in,
But trying to say with an embarrassed grin:
“I don’t suppose you’ve got this Lambeth Marsh book”
He paused then said without a second look
“No” and there followed a pregnant pause
And I wish I had stopped grasping at straws
Then he added in mournful tone:
“But I did write it”
Which stopped me in my tracks
I didn’t know what to say
But it triggered a conversation
About writing the book and the months it took
To trace the copyright of the painting on the cover
Which had been sold on twice in the United States
I left the owner with a soulful look
And I have to admit without buying a book
And things got worse when I got outside
I walked a few steps and could have cried
For as soon as I knew I was all alone
I bought his book on my mobile phone
Amazon had a copy and it was second hand
The deed was done in moments unplanned
A few months later when passing by
Hoping this time to see something to buy
This lovely old shop to my disgust
Had closed its doors, bitten the dust
One more bookshop
For the chop
Killed by people like you and me.
Too myopic to foresee
What the effects of our actions will be.
Buy a whole book of poems by Victor Keegan HERE.