Just Passing Through Poem by Margaret O Driscoll

I took a trip down memory lane
along the byways last September
Pointing out familiar places
and events I well remember
Twin peaks away in the distance,
mountains all hazy in blue
To the southwest a woodland,
all around an amazing view

The ditches purple with heather,
fuchsia drips red in the hedge
Swallows feast for their
migration,
montbretia in bloom at the edge
The hay fields that once resounded with the corncrake's constant call
Where hay was cut and turned,
when dry piled in haycocks tall

I passed along the old school route
I thought of the stream roaring down
Water gushing out of the gulley,
froth rising, the bubbles peat brown
The turn where I saw a stoat
slinking along, tail end black
The hill where the kestrel hovered then suddenly launched an attack

A region remote and rugged
where stars lit up the dark nights
Where in childhood I gazed in amazement at the swirling Northern Lights
Time passes but memories remain to be passed to generations new
Cherish those magical moments,
we are all just passing through