Returning Home
(To one’s Birthplace)
In the glory of the morning
just to see the sunrise
take the place of the moon,
at this time I love the best
this memory this place truly blest.
Through the ages one had not forgotten
blue skies some that turned to grey,
knowing one day we’ll meet again
in this land that holds no sway.
Yes indeed I need to walk again
within the balmy moor,
meet my reflection from the past
sense once more locked away happiness.
Hear the dawn chorus of the song thrush
a rendition of a morning tide trill,
that seemed to say
‘forever I love you’.
Visit the old cottage in the dale
where one’s sensibility sweeps,
like the spring clean broom
upon a naive childhood.
Relive the chasteness
of dandelion seeds floating
in the warmth of dancing light,
spreading the message of rebirth.
Walk amidst the mist that mingled in ceremony
a subdued veil upon conformity,
stumble across sinews of dewy tears
glistening within verdancy.
Endure the reverberation
of rhythmic waters
over moss riddled rocks
beneath the old stone railway bridge.
Meander again upon the hillsides
where meadows collide in dishevelled jade
and one’s over indulgence
of ‘Pure Nostalgia’
cements a portrait of foreverness!
© Harry J Horsman 2010
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