Pleasant fields of gentle views,
Corn of gold that stretches far,
I sit alone and think of you,
It's times like this,
I miss you more.
Tender breeze upon my face,
Brings back yet more memories,
Of our time, we walked this place,
Through the apple blossom trees.
I hear the calls from trees afar,
Birds nest there,
It is their place,
I so wish you were here with me,
Your presence gone without a trace.
Many times I will come back,
For here I hold sweet memories,
Walking down this lonely track,
Sensing your spirit,
A longing to see.
Jayne Louise Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem