Poem By Rose Blakeley
Winding lanes my footsteps trace,
Now covered in the leaves’ elaborate lace,
The giant, blazing trees, restlessly sway
Ov’ where their conkers and acorns lay.
The ivory sheep, they amble and graze
As the sunshine ignites a field of maize,
Whilst the blade of the plough, once more slowly turns
And the bare, open soil, to the gulls it returns.
Contented am I, and lost in thought as I stride
As the land’s antiquity treads close at my side,
But a great force grips me, as the wind it does gust,
Whilst the vision around me it curdles to rust.
Nature it wanes; for winter, it will retire,
Life…a whole cycle, like the light will expire,
But its energy is strong, it will be reborn
When the spirit of green will dance with the dawn.