On This Green Hillside... - Poem by David Mitchell
On this green hillside do I gaze
At clouds still, sweet, and soft,
And many a tree that gently sways
And birds that soar aloft!
I hear the lambkin's soothing bleat,
The hedgerow's rural rustle -
April's repeated avian tweet,
Far from the hustle bustle
Of overcrowded noisy towns
And hectic urban feet
Belonging to clock-beleaguered clowns
That rush from street to street.
How nice it is to sit and dream
Beneath an azure sky
Beside a clear fast-flowing stream
Watching the world go by!
(Branton, Northumberland; Tuesday,4th April,2006.)
Comments about On This Green Hillside... by David Mitchell
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You