The Child I Used to Be
Like the child I used to be
In a timeframe, that hadn’t altered.
I meandered through the meadow
Knee high in grass, buttercups
Nodding as I pass, their
Tall and stately faces upturned seeking the sun.
The hedgerows heavy with blossom.
Their distinctive perfume
Drifted by me, on the breeze.
The sun warmed my face.
The soft fragrant breeze
Toyed with my hair ,
Tickled my neck, buffered my face,
Kept me cool.
I almost felt weight against my hip;
My school satchel, once full of home made bread
Spread with butter and delicious strawberry jam.
A bottle of water, that sploshed about as I walked.
How the memory brought back my childhood joy.
It was good to be wandering alone again,
Carefree and feeling at peace.
Across this wonderland of memories.
But it is to change.
Over the hill is the motorway.
Cars and lorries racing along ,
An over powering and belligerent force
Against the beauty of the countryside.
The meadow is soon to go.
A slip road, another tentacle
That strangles and kills natures reserves.
Animals, birds and insects
Are losing the battle.
And it makes me I feel so sad.
Val Cook 2010
jane wilcock
Fri 3rd Sep 2010 21:40
Hi Val, This is a lovely evocative poem and I agree entirely with your sentiments. Why successive governments have ignored walkers and cyclists is a mystery to me.