Inimitable Walworth Society

Despite the chill,
It was compelling
To follow the debate
Of the Walworth Society,
Two hours of issues
Relating to its existence,
Reason to be.

The meeting took place
As is customary,
In the exquisite St. Peter’s Church,
In the depths of winter
On this occasion,
A monthly assembly I rarely attend,
Feel morally guilty
Not being present more often,
A gathering devoted
To matters Walworth.

The members are primarily
The Bourgeoisie,
With a minority
Of indigenous working-class residents,
But all equally passionate
In their attachment
To our cherished locale.

Our patch of London
Was once elegant,
Fashionable, in days gone by,
Is still historically significant.
Stalwarts of the Society
Volunteer their time
For exhaustive research,
Striving to preserve
And collate
Walworth’s every notable aspect,
Edifice, byway,
Pub, artefact.

I too harbour for it
An affection,
For it is special
Unique in character
Bustling, thriving, despite hard times
With a strong beating heart
Gentrifying now
If still rough around the edges
But of consequence.

So I listened intently
Shivering in the cold
Marvelling at their formidable efforts
On behalf of Walworth,
Indefatigably battling
To rescue the post office,
Town Hall,
Amid tackling other relevant concerns.

Manifesting the roles they play
In the flourishing of the rich meld
Of artistry, culture and activity,
All alive and well within the nucleus
Of our robust, urban,
Singular milieu.


Rita Unger

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