BACK TO CHILDHOOD
Back sixty years to lost houses
lost paths
labours lost
lost lives.
Back to the old lady, pinafore dusted with flour
standing in the cottage door
mewling children at her feet.
Back to the labourer in the field
shire horse in hand
guiding the furrow o'er the hillside
ploughing for the future.
Back to the youth paying court
to the golden haired lass
his true love
who will leave him tomorrow.
Back to the the days of infancy
when I saw men stooking hay
hoeing beet in spring time
mopping weary brows mid-morning.
Back to my first steps into life
into the countryside
into woodland, onto wold
along the wild side.
Back to the days when days were forever
the blink of an eye an hour long
and there was no such word as Never.
Back to the days when comics were for kids
not collectors things
but prized for their laughs
not their rarity.
Back to the days the valley knew
in simple 1950's style
the first tractors
ranging the land.
Back to childhood (mine)
to parents toil
to the valley dozing before
the twenty-first century.
Back to the days that made me.
YOU ARE READING
poeTRY (Volume 2)
PoetryFirst time Poems by our newest Pubbers. Our second Edition.
