I made some notes as we walked down to Bidford

Assuming I could use them later on

As ideas for a poem, but the hoard

Of images refused to mesh, not one

Would flow with any ease into the other

And I was left with an amorphous pile

Each of potential interest but together

Worth far less and with no sense of style.

A herd of bullocks up against a hedge

Cutting off our way back to the river;

A shattered cross; some early tiles; an edge

Of quiet water where a heron quivers.

           So there - nothing came of it -ah well,

           At least we had a good lunch at The Bell.