Familiar.
Here are the fields as they have always been.
The copses, the crops.
the sheep in the meadow.
Nature, tho' heedless knows sameness heals
with relentless rhythms
as she reaches her home.
She sees the same woods where gypsies gathered
around flickering fires
with fiddler playing.
She feels the music that once made her heart dance
walking the ways
of familiar again.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2021 02:35
- Comment from author about the poem: A whimsical weekend short story after seeing the image - hope you enjoy,
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments4
All those old familiar places.
AS a kid I was shunted all over the country along with my siblings as we grew up. I used to be able to count having attended more than ten different schools. Thoughtless parents, messed up education etc.
Familiar places have become important to me in later years, they become as friends. It's heartwarming to see the seasons on familiar landscapes, alive in the hedgerows and pasture.
Reflecting upon your words brings to mind the thrill springtime will bring to familiar places.
Very atmospheric writing from you Fay.
Good write Fay.
Tricky if we take unfamiliar paths sometimes. Some go on for miles. We don't know where we may end up!
I am taken back to the age of steam .. to an age when and where I felt most comfortable ... so could not turn the page without first saying a big thank you .. x
Walking those familiar places can bring back such wonderful memories Fay.
Andy
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