Back Then.
How green was my valley
back then.
Tall willow trees drooped
and tumbled
to small meadow\'s clean
stream amid
screams from lasses who
annoyed with
teasing lads\' laughter ran
thru\' mole-brown
ploughed fields happy to
feel underfoot
sowed soil soft as velvet
which when
reaped would give grain
to the hungry
who sang in the harvest
back then.
Wild were the flowers we
picked for our
tables when sheaved hay
littered fields.
We carried scythed wheat
with children\'s
sweet voices lending tune
to find value
of best stood neat stooks.
Came the day
when things mechanized
brought changes
that ended simplicity as
good men left
idle found that factories
paid fair wages
but took air\'s call away
from lads born
for countryfied activities.
Now like gems
on my memory necklace
I still string old
moments together when
villagers praised
each worker\'s best effort
with dance and
fiddle as home-made ale
washed down
harvest pies, milk jellies,
thick cream
and from grass-fed cattle
sizzling steaks
with fresh salads tasting
of keenest
tending when green back
then was my valley.