A poem appeared in the Dursley Gazette of November 9th 1940 which was anonymous and which describes Castle Street in sentimental but heartfelt terms. We would be very pleased to find out who this evacuee was as there is obviously a very nice story attached to the poem.


Tribute to Thornbury

The old world streets of Thornbury
Are dear to me alway.
But the dearest street is Castle Street
With its little houses grey.
Grey as the grey skies overhead
When the clouds are dark with rain
And over the dull red roofing tiles
Spreads many a weather stain.
But with the shining of the sun
The walls blush rosily
And the glow of the roofs is like the flame
When a fire burns cosily.
Ah Castle Street is dear to me
As downward it doth wend.
For half way stands the wee sweet home
Of one who is my friend.
The little windows like kind eyes
Look out in front and rear.
In front at the folk who go that way
Behind at a garden fair.
Little and hid like a fairy haunt
In an old forgotten place,
But scented and sweet and beautiful
As an aged and lovely face!
So in the winter of my years
Few memories as sweet
Bear in my thought such pleasant fruit
As the house in Castle Street.
Its little time-old kindly rooms
Filled with a thousand things
So rare and quaint and intimate,
Like the words that an old song sings
Where I dream of life which defies all time
In a dream that has no end
The exquisite vision of loveliness
In the home of a lovely friend.