Going home


Come away to the land of my fathers
Where the winds are bitter and harsh,
With waves that crash on the shoreline
And the mists whisper in from the marsh.
With currents to catch the unwary
And seal pups that cry on the shore
Take me back to it's desolate beauty
To be in it's soil evermore.
There my soul will soar like a seagull
O'er the poppies and waving sea grass
With it's secret hedgerows and byways
And small creatures that watch as you pass.
Lay me down in a country churchyard
When it's my turn to return to the loam
For it's there that I yearn to be resting
In that place my East Anglian home.

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byUnderYourSpell© 4 comments/ 2598 views/ 0 favorites

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