Within That Land Poem by John Scully

A summer's mist, a summer's morn
born fairer under this part heaven
shade a churchyard yew
high born within those lands
of English honeydew.

And while summer storms bring showers
to brush away the heat of day
the shouts of children
to early bed and dream
of Cornish fudge and clotted cream.

While in the days of autumn still to come
the chorus birds fly south
a blossom scatters in season's chill
as picnic cloths are laid to dry.

And home to roost their tired heads
the little people, girl and boy
on pillows to softly lie
and dream of sun and sea, and apple pie.