Oft did I wander as a child
On the hills above the town,
Away from calling voices, loud,
To be alone, rejoicing in the world I found,
Above the mellee, and the crowd.
There saw I bluebells, forest bound,
And I could dream my childhood there.
Saw I bird and mouse and flower,
Passing many a happy hour.
Above in stillness where I sat,
Watching curling smoke from stacks,
knew I nothing of the real world then,
but, growing, knew it had to end.
My peace, and hours of solitary roam
Among the hills above my home
Or wandering but a shady brook,
And even now I love to stray
Where willing fancy paints my way,
I hold a paint brush in my mind,
And of the pictures that I see,
I always bring them home with me.
1980
Absolutely loved this one Daphne, the flow was excellent and the subject just as much so. I used to live in Southampton by the way in Millbrook. Thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Thank you. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX Bless you for reading my poem too. Thanks.
a reverie of utmost beauty the grace of nature sending sweet images into your soul as this poem gives to all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice, there's a warmth there, a feeling of safety for me.