Earth to Earth

We chose our plot,

This very spot,
With views across the field,
We didn’t know,
So long ago,
The houses they would build.
We wanted space
Within this place
And sunny open sky,
But time moves on,
Son maketh son,
Whilst in this earth we lie.
Gone is the wheat
And apples sweet,
The milkmaid with her yoke,
The plodding horse,
The yellow gorse,
And hymns of village folk.
The tolling bell
Saves us from hell
But still we feel bereft,
Our shrouded view
Through shady yew
Is all that we have left.


Back to village