Nick Bagnall Poet Narrative

Clear View

I can see it now even without looking that clear view above the steeply dropping 
rooftops.  That sight is peppered across my childhood memories, the open 
moorland, in all weathers and in all seasons.  Standing at the top of the road on the 
way to where ever, always a brief moment to glance at its beauty.  Be it tinged with 
purple heather, or covered in snow, sometimes missing altogether in the mists of an 
autumn morn, ever constant but never quite the same.  Beautiful, yet intangible too 
far to run, to young to drive.  Even now I long to see that view again with real eyes, 
so much so that I suspect, given the car and some time I'd find myself not on the 
moor of my childhood desires, but instead atop the hill above the rooftops staring at 
the view.

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Jimmy Anderson January 11, 2011 at 6:59 PM Very nice poem....Jimmy

Deirdre Omaidin January 11, 2011 at 5:52 AM Hi there, Beautifully descriptive view which has never faded from the memory, you must have this great awareness of beauty as a child. Very appreciative of comment on y piano poem. Déirdre Ó Maidín

Anthony Nutter January 11, 2011 at 3:03 AM Excellent and descriptive write, yalented writer for sure. One of the better writes I have had the pleasure to read at the soup.

Eiken Laan January 11, 2011 at 2:11 AM Nick, I really like this, I love... peppered across my childhood memories. Great colour and images in this piece, I can see your view.