Move With The Times

There were meadows to play in when I was a lass
With a gentle meandering stream
Where wild lillies grew
And forget-me-nots too
By a pond where the frogs used to spawn

But they've covered my meadow with concrete
The stream has been piped underground
No lillies abound
Where the tadpoles were found
There's a pub where the pond used to be.

There were woodlands to wander when I was a lass
With bluebells - a carpet of blue
Where a nightingale sang
When the Angelus rang
From the beech tree which I used to climb.

But they've plundered my wonderful woodland,
The bluebells they've buried below
A motorway rends
The valleys and glens
There's a bridge where the beech tree once stood.

And I'm sad when remembering my days as a lass
But we cannot live in the past.
So to hell with nostalgia!
March on to tomorrow
Greet every new day with a smile.

by Brenda Eyles

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