A Lincolnshire Lad - Moonlight On The Wolds
Moonbeams dancing across the fields and woods,
Owls using hedges as flight paths for hunting,
Shrews running in the shadows looking for their burrows,
All of life living and sleeping under the moonlight skies.
Countryside and towns all lit by moonlight without prejudice,
Saint James Church Louth great spire reaching for the moon,
Little wolds hamlets bathed in magical moonlight,
Industrial estates working under the moon's spell.
The Lincolnshire Poacher working his craft by moonlight,
The village drunks stumbling their way home by moonshine,
Farmers harvesting through the night illuminated by the moon,
As for the rest of us yellow-bellies the moon rising is a sign it's time for bed.
Ghosts of long dead airmen walking across abandoned airfields,
Long abandoned monasteries resting gracefully in the moonlight,
Abandoned villages and hamlets from the time of the Black Death,
Like Girsby and Wkheham buried in the depths of fields while the moon looks down.
Magical winter's night's full of snow and cold moonlight,
Wooded copse's dusted with snow as moonbeams dance around branches,
Fallow fields covered in snow shimmering under the moon's watch,
Country roads with snow drifts looking like pillows in the moonlight.
Cool spring nights as moonlight shines on new life,
Little lambs sleeping under the moon's watchful gaze,
Snowdrops and Daffodils looking colourfully muted,
Early blossoms on trees gazing up at the moon.
Wolds hills reaching into the skies trying to touch the moon,
The Belmont transmitter's shadow falling long in the moonlight,
Stenigot Chain Home radar tower looking ghostly in the moonlight,
The moon still looking down on this ancient landscape after all this time.
By Christopher Tye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I smelt the refreshing air of your Lincolnshire countryside. The moon still looking down on this ancient landscape after all this time.... What a beautiful tribute to your homeland!