Through the arch of time, your memory calls to me!!

The  stately avenues, the smell of columbine and asphodel,

and, snaking up from shady bowers,

jasmine, stocks, exotic flowers carpet lanes with vivid scenes as village squares and village greens

slumber neath the cloudless sky, before the azure sea!!.

stately spires and gilded domes

call them all from play

and Sunday sees them pious come

to praise this wonder they call home

to thank the Lord they have been blest

with such a place in which to rest

to meditate and pray!!

Ancient seats of learning thrive.

Their gates are opened wide

And pilgrims kneel to kiss the sod

to tread where Roman feet have trod

They  join together hand in hand

And, in this  English Samarkand

weep tears that few can hide

San Francisco, none deny

A city  of renown

Agra Beijing, I would  say are

Most impressive in their way

Bucarest and Bangalore

Both of course have  great allure

But none are Ilford town.

When cares and woe press all around

When life itself too harsh is

My spirit seeks its breeding ground

My Shangri-la, my lebensraum

My camel turns, and, belled with gold

retraces steps it learnt of old

beyond the Essex marshes!!