Escape

Rating: 4.3

The wind rushing past me was monstrous wild
As I clambered to the top of the downs;
My feet were dirty and aching bad
When at last I reached the crown.

But what cared I for such trivial things
When such wonderful nature swept by me:
The trees and the grass blowing awry
In the boisterous spring wind,
Which ruffled my hair and made my face sting.

There was I, a solitary figure,
Alone on the top of the downs:
With all of the clouds astir
And far from any town -
The sea in the distance
A single grey line,
How I felt, how I saw those views
So fine.

I sat upon a hillock of springy green turf,
Saw the new buds on the trees;
And the whole of the world seemed full
Of new birth - then the wind
Suddenly dropped to a breeze.

The white chalk paths, so rough and stony,
Wound higher and higher up each hill,
And I sat and thought how good to be lonely,
And for a second all was still.

But I could not have it the way I wished,
The wind grew louder, the air more chill;
I saw a path, though knew not to where it lead,
But I walked and I walked and behind me

Everything once more was still.

.

(May 1955)
(Written after going for a walk on the Willingdon downs.)

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kee Thampi 17 October 2008

nicely made a lovely chick There was I, a solitary figure, Alone on the top of the downs: With all of the clouds astir And far from any town - The sea in the distance A single grey line, How I felt, how I saw those views So fine

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Phillip Sawatzky 18 April 2006

Dear Philippa, A truly breathless adventure. I don't want to spoil it, in my quest for ambitious display of my literary prowess, which thankfully fails me now. Phillip

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Peter A. Crowther 24 March 2005

Great poem. Very atmospheric. Nothing like the exhilaration of being alone out in the hills!

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Scarborough Gypsy 24 March 2005

I enjoyed this too, though the mitre mite nead some tweaking here and there. Fantastic effort for one so young.

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