Waist high, windblown snowdrifts

Sloping, snow covered fields

Lopsided snowmen wearing woolly hats

To wake at dawn and hear the slipping

And sliding of loosening snow

Peep at the sky, the colour of a flock of seagulls

The thaw had begun.

Blossom-like confetti, sprinkled magically

Spring has arrived

Bicycle rides, peering over hedges into buttercup-filled fields

A pencil line of smoke emits from the chimneys

With no time to acclimatise, we were

Hustled into high Summer

A never-ending dream of hot, golden days

Filled with picnics, paddling and parties

Watching the farmers, their backs as 

Brown as hazelnuts, cutting, tossing

And baiing the hay.

Autumn, a damp, fruity smell of

Decay pervades

Pheasants strut about, spiders stalk

And hedgehogs shuffle, scuffle and snuffle.

The countryside is at its best

Mellow and ripe

The year has turned, I shiver and

Close the door on my wonderful

Country Childhood memories