Beket's Holiday Poem by Patrick Fealy

I saw the spires of Canterbury when I was just a lad
Watching o'er my wandering in the travels that I had
And so I'd come to yearn for where
a lamb had laid his head
where I could just put to rest those passions I had fled

I promised that I'd come to see where Thomas had been laid
near histories unspoken shame that every man has made
and sit beside his rest beneath
a sacred hallowed vault
where echoes of his agony
were pardoning my fault

and so just like on holiday
I gave up all my gold
to rest within the precincts where his stories now are told
O Thomas since your innocence
did lead to your demise
vouchsafe to me some passage near where goodness still abides