Nostalgia

I often miss the things I’ve never seen
The windswept cliffs with caves along its face
Where sapphire waters ‘neath the sunlight gleam
Or roaring waves and gray skies in its place
The rolling moorland dotted all in thistle
Or rocky land with heather bushes grown
The hopping hare or cheeky birdie’s whistle
And herbs and ferns no farmer’s seed has sown
I miss the cottage roof with sod on top
And curling smoke which from the chimney plumes
And window-views horizons never stop
And firesides in cozy cottage rooms
And though I’ve never been there nor have seen
These things live on inside my memory’s dreams

 

© Joy Payne 2013