An April Day of a later year:

  The Church lies hidden behind a tree.

  Yet, to the left of it;

  Concealed by a block structure

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  no longer;

  Rise the Saffron and Snow Tower,

  The brown Tower of the old hospital to

  the left again;

  The trees of the park that lap its western

  bounds;

  And west and

  north again,

  Where earth and sky meet:

  A tower block in the land of

  Sefton.

  The view of my dreams has returned

  threefold.

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