Comforted by trees entwined
lined with history the dwellings wind
faced with smiles of people getting old
Lichen, moss and tangleweed unfold
The tapping sticks of walkers pop pop pop
Wondering if they'll make it to the shop.
Scenes enmisted by contracted dust
Busy men improving as needs must
Wafts old pines and moisty chickory soil
Mixed with the whiffs of gas and logs and oil.
Windows reflect a clearly vintage worth
Old Harlow roots into the Essex earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem, according to a friend who chanced to be there, was read at the funeral in Youlgrave, Derbyshire of a lady from the Old Harlow area..I am proud that the people chose it and thank you.