Winding lanes my footsteps trace,
Now covered in the leaves’ elaborate lace,
The giant, blazing trees, restlessly sway
Ov’ where their conkers and acorns lay.
The ivory sheep, they amble and graze
As the sunshine ignites a field of maize,
Whilst the blade of the plough, once more slowly turns
And the bare, open soil, to the gulls it returns.