SWEET MEMORIES OF OUR CHILDHOOD # 1

 

Sweet memories of our childhood

Those days of youth were the best

Golden Septembers in the fields

Gathering the bounty of the harvest

UP ON THE MOOR

 

Up on the Moor

The birds take flight

On the glorious 12^th

They leave the hill

With a bevy of Grouse

The trappings of wealth

IN THE AUTUMN

 

In the Autumn

The shoot is very pleasant

And we end the day

With a bevy of pheasant

I MISS THE PLACE

 

I miss the place

Where I journeyed into this world

Where a loving mother

Kissed me and gently brushed my curls

 

I miss the place

Where mother taught me the joys of life

And my father

Taught me to seek harmony from strife

 

I miss the place

Where my school days first began

And those friends

That made up our inseparable band

 

I miss the place

Where my heart had an optimistic view

And I miss the face

Of my one and only love so true

 

I miss the place

Where summer days seemed without end

Where natures bounty

Spilled from the fields we had to tend

 

I miss the place

Where the bones of my parents lay

And the times

When our days were full with play

 

I miss the place

I knew before I grew into a man

And took up arms

To fight for the king in a foreign land

 

I miss the place

That is the home I shall never see again

Never smell the grasses green

Or taste those gentle summer rains

 

I miss that place

My distant home far across the sea

The place I left behind

So I could die fighting for the free

THE FISHING BOATS BOB AND DANCE

 

The fishing boats bob and dance

Driven by weather to the south

Making slow progress in the swell

As they approach the harbour mouth

BLUEBELL GIRL

 

I am transported back

To a distant place and time

When I was only twelve

The world was changing

And I saw it with new eyes

And I recall her sweet face

When I first saw her in the wood

Gathering wild bluebells

Sun shinning on the golden strands

Of her silken hair

As it danced on her shoulders

The beautiful bluebell girl

Moved about the wood

Then she stopped and noticed me

Deep blue eyes smiling at me

In the innocence of childhood

And she captured my heart

Though twenty years have passed

She keeps it still

I ALWAYS LOVED THE TIME OF YEAR

 

I always loved the time of year

Long before that perfect day

It was a perfect morning

The best of autumn

The sky the clearest blue

The air crisp and clean

The last remnants of mist

Burnt away by the rising watery sun

And there she stood

As if to improve on nature itself

A vision of perfection

Standing at the edge of the woods

From beneath her woolen hat

Flaming red hair fell

Then danced upon her shoulders

And caught on her scarf

Breath plumed from her smiling mouth

As she spoke to her dog

Then she began to walk

The hem of her long coat swung

With the rhythm of her hips

As she strode into the woods

The spaniel chasing a stick she had thrown

Her boots crunching leaves underfoot

Still crisp with frost

Where the sun hadn’t reached

“Come on Jimbo” I said

Letting the dog out of the car

And we followed her into the wood

I walked amidst the skeletal trees

Where Squirrels ran here and there

Still busily preparing for winter

I kicked through the carpet of leaves

Feeling like a schoolboy again

And birds settled in my wake

Feeding on insects in the disturbance

In a clearing I saw her again

Her red hair like fire

Illuminated in the sunlight

The dogs soon introduced each other

And we did also

Two dog lovers talking in a wood

Two people who would become lovers

Who both loved the time of year