I Belong To the Lake
I wander far from the coal-tar smog
and buzzing sounds of the city
to a place where I can smell
fresh-cut hay in a tepid breeze.
I stroll through a woodland path
winding its way along evergreen trees.
Like a silver-lime leaf my heart
settles in Willington waters
I know I belong to the lake.
In distance white butterflies follow
the whistling tunes of an old railway train.
Infront of me set sail long canal boats
Behind me dogs bark,men walk
A grey-haired lady stirs crystals of sugar
in bone-china cups filled with english tetley tea.
The out-stretched arms of dandelions
welcome home foraging honey-bees
A Peak District Chalet in the little mountain village
awaits my return,my forgotten pen
and new sunset dreams
Inspired by my last trip to England.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2018
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