Rus in urbe 2

We often drive past 
a large triangle of rather prosaic common land

bordered on all sides by busy roads.

You might see people playing football or walking their dogs

but it has never presented itself as a worthwhile destination.

Last night, in search of the last drop of sunshine

we decided to stop and now I wish we had thought to do so sooner,

for we discovered that the scruffy outskirts 

conceal a series of beautifully planned,  

planted,

and tended

gardens.

 Just as we were in danger of believing we had escaped
through a wormhole into Peckham's pastoral past,

a gap in the trees revealed,

this 21st century vista.

 Perfectly possible to believe though, that William Blake saw,

' a tree filled with angels, 

bright angelic wings bespangling every bough like stars.'
while visiting Peckham in 1767.