Friday, August 30, 2019

The Old Fields Of My Past

Though in distance from me they are far away
In my visualizations the old fields of my past I walk on every day
Good old memories live on only true for to say
And in the mind remain young and until death does stay
It followed me south the sound of the rill
Babbling down the high fields it's tongue is never still
On it's journey to the river to the far ocean shore
In the rushy old fields it will flow forever more
When I visualize distance disappear
And the cooing of the wood pigeons in the woods I do hear
And memories of the old hills half cloaked in the grey fogs of rain
For as long as I will live in me will remain
Though physically I may never walk on them again
Fond memories of the old fields today I retain.

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