I walked that path a thousand times,
To the mountain top I'd climb,
Leaving the village beneath me,
I'd hear those church bells chime.
Looking down the valley,
The sky a luscious blue,
Admiring this world around me,
A grand and special view.
The village I was born in,
This land I call my own,
The rows of terraced houses,
A community proudly grown.
The birds sing from the treetops,
The sun upon my face,
This is my favourite moment,
This is my special place.
Jayne Louise Davies
I share in this nostalgia. The are early years in the village are always wonderful to remember. This reminds me of my poem: A Song To My Childhood Friends. Thanks for sharing and keep writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful images and emotive poem, where are you now, ? Still writing tired of PH?