My Little World In My Forgotten Little Town

Oh how alive I feel! Now spring has come again. The familiar sun, My old friend. Come at last, Warming my face As I walk from place to place. High up in the hills I meet you each morning, Rejocing once more That a new day is dawning. Singing birds Serenade your grace, Of sorrow, there is no trace. Colours so vibrant, Venture to be seen. Left lush from the snow, The grass shines green. Golden daffodils Wave their hello, As further down the track I dare go. In a world of my own, I go back in time, When the bracken was untamed, And the fields only just lined. Happy am I... Until a pylon cuts in... But that is the world we now are akin. If only I could stay up there all day, Playing hide and seek with my little dog, Until we come upon the cows, Emerging lazily from amongst the fog. Standing so firm, Blocking our way. To the next path, then, we shall stray. Looking out across my nowhere town, Always a journey's chapter, not destination, Not thriving but there all the same, With it's dying high street and long gone station. I know every street, Every square and alley, Toady it wakes so very sadly. Gone are the days when Henry VIII, Favoured the White Horse, as his inn. Gone, too, are the days of strong Industry, No more do the men at work sing. But it's my little town, No matter how dull And if you want, you can still find it's soul. That's why each morning I wake at dawn, To go up the downs and stand my watch, Looking past the cars, new builds and shops, I see the Market town, whose past was forgot. To the cross roads, as always, My eyes are drawn Of the romans they were born. So that's my morning, That's my little town. Part of my little world, All up on the downs. With each spring, It ages once more, But for all time, I'm sure it'll endure.