I Lost My Pride That Summer’s Day
by Raymond Holt
An ex Cranleigh village Bobby
I lost my pride that summer’s day
Cycling in the shade,
When this gentle Cranleigh lady
Gave me ice cold lemonade.
So comfy in her summer house
Cool and rather shady –
She talked of Cranleigh times gone by –
A perfect little Lady.
What happened to the windmill,
The little church nearby?
The brewery and the manor house?
The truth is sometime shy.
She walked me round her garden
She always held my arm
She knew the name of ev’ry flower
Together with their charm.
And when she could not walk
I sat beside her bed
And now she’s gone I miss her
And all the things she said.
I’m not ashamed to say Lord
It’s perfection that I lack –
It’s strange we can go forward
By simply looking back.
(An excerpt from the book of poetry ‘Looking Over My Shoulder’) 
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