This is a
land of wide open skies,
Where distant fires make white smoke rise,
This is a land of strutting crows,
Jabbing at fields where no-one goes.
Scattered clay-ponds fringed with trees,
Once made bricks for farms like these.
This is
the land where once I came,
Brief returning, swift to claim
Unwanted gifts I'd toss aside,
So wind could blow them far and wide,
Not caring how they came to be,
Nor how or why they came to me.
Old things
I'd scorn and throw away,
Consign them to their native clay.
I, older now, have come to earth,
Once more to see land of my birth...
Andy
Morley Le Grys Farm 18th December 2006
This is
about the corner of England that I came from. Scroll down
for more pictures, or see my pome N.O.R.W.I.C.H. for the city side
of East Anglia.
