The View From Here Poem by Steven Heyes

The call of the Curlew overhead
And the sounds of the reeds rustling
Tell me I am in the marshland
Kept safe by my dog at my side.
The breeze brings the smells
of the countryside
From the far off farm
With its pigsty and sheep bleeting
The smoke from the chimney
Carried on the breeze
Along with the smell
Of fresh baked bread and cakes
The rolling green hills In the distance
Hide the industrial town
Where I lost my vision
I will never again see the view from here
But will remember it in my minds eye