~ o ~

 

Within my mind are pictures still,

From whence a time I once did roam,

On some distant remembered hills,

Of life’s full place I called my home.


The hills, my home, they’re distant now,

Yet I see them in minds eye plain.

Such happy times, remembered now,

Cannot be here, nor seen again.


Those hills so far, to view, not tread,

As time moves on with a life to live,

Surely before the time I’m dead,

A glimpse to the young, just once to give.


To let them know, their hills are here,

They walk upon them each waking day.

My hills, my life, so distant there;

Know that on them, I could not stay.


Look, there now, at horizon’s sphere,

In deep blue haze, my hills so bold.

There they must stay, so far, so near.

All that remains, a story told.


~ o ~

 

With apologies to the estate of A.E. Houseman (1859 – 1936)

From where the dreams of such words did once come.

Inspired by a Shropshire Lad XL

 

~ o ~