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Poem	Was it worth keeping the Halt open, We thought as we looked at the sky Red through the spread of the cedar-tree, With the evening train gone by? Yes, we said, for in summer the anglers use it, Two and sometimes three Will bring their catches of rods and poles and perches To Westbury, home for tea. There isn't a porter. The platform is made of sleepers. The guard of the last train puts out the light And high over lorries and cattle the Halt unwinking Waits through the Wiltshire night. O housewife safe in the comprehensive churning Of the Warminster launderette! O husband down at the depot with car in car-park! The Halt is waiting yet. And when all the horrible roads are finally done for, And there's no more petrol left in the world to burn, Here to the Halt from Salisbury and from Bristol Steam trains will return.
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