I Walk, This Day, This Haunted Land

I walk, this day, this haunted land

(Not far off, Mancunian city walls)

'Neath my feet sprawls peaty sand ~

Overhead as evening falls,

The ghostly voice of children's calls.

This land, taciturn, calm and still,

A sombre place to garner thought;

A meditation of past ill ~

All the anguish time has brought ~

The mighty horrors, ever fraught.

Evoking days of deadly deeds,

Wicked sins of heretofore;

The ghostly voice of innocence pleads

You salute what happened, evermore,

Here in nineteen sixty four.

Infant souls, half concealed,

Ne'er forgotten over time;

Three were found below this field

Buried under peat and lime ~

Reposing 'midst the moorland grime.

He walks, this day, this haunted land

(Not far off, Mancunia's city near)

He romps with others hand in hand ~

But spare a thought and weep a tear

For a lonely boy who still lies here. 

                                     ASJ