During the course of our week on Hadrian’s Wall, David Thomas, John Walton and Angela Walton who organise and managed treks were given a name based on certain letters as highlighted above. We became known as the T.W.A.Ts.
Towards the end of the week one or two people put pen to paper and wrote a poem based on W H Auden’s Roman Wall Blues. Below is the work of Ann Jones. What a star she is.
I’m cold and alone sitting on this stone
Watching the sky and people passing by
They all have strange faces and speak a strange tongue
And I dream of my home, the place I belong
I stand on this wall of cold, hard grey stone
And wish for my family….. I’m so far from home
Why am I here in this bare hostile place
Another hard day I am dreading to face.
The wall is my prison, the land is my jail
And I dread what will happen if my duties I fail
The food it is sparse and strange to my tongue
I pray I’ll go home to the place I belong
I sleep, If I can…. on cold dirty floors
Never kept warm by windows or doors
I’m covered in lice and pestered by rats
So never again am I booking with T.W.A.Ts!