deepundergroundpoetry.com
Travels in The Past
Here? Fields we rambled, played and picnicked on
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, graved on my simple mind,
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the human kind.
Drive on this superhighway under which
Lie farms, fields, picnic spots and cricket pitch.
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, graved on my simple mind,
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the human kind.
Drive on this superhighway under which
Lie farms, fields, picnic spots and cricket pitch.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 1
comments 6
reads 229
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.