Return to the Wolds

A gentle breeze now blows across the fields,
I see the weeping branches gently sway -
And hear the rustling leaves above my head,
And now, the wafting scent of new-mown hay.

Here dappling shadows cast by leaves above,
And bluebells, cowslips and ferns my path adorn;
Across the fields I view the hazy vale,
And in the breeze the gently waving corn.

And there, from distant Wolds, a pair of kites,
Above they wheel and glide, to and fro;
With them, on eagles’ wings I would rise,
High above to view my past below.

Behind me now the calm and peaceful copse,
And slowly down the narrow lane I stroll;
I hear the rooks return above the trees,
There they circle and screech – so raucous their call!

My thoughts now turn to many years ago,
When, so young, I walked along this lane;
And heard the rooks above encourage and urge,
Let nothing, they cried and screamed, my life constrain.

What happened, you ask, so many years ago?
Youthful dreams I had - to me, so real;
A summer’s day and down the lane I traipsed,
Above, the rooks continued to shriek and wheel.

So young I was, so rakish, youthful and spry,
Towards Etton Pasture I walked, in sun so bright;
“Good Morning Sir!” I greet a man so old,
Hunched upon the bench, with hair so white.

Up he looked and smiled - so strange I felt,
And scared I was, but felt I knew him well;
He beckoned “Come sit by me!” he urged,
I was tense – but why? - I could not tell.

He frowned - “Beware of life to come.” he rasped,
Dismayed and shocked! Why this on me inflict?
And up I got, so worried, and off I strode,
What did he know of me to so predict?

Years have passed and on that bench I sit,
And contemplate what life’s produced for me;
So calm and tranquil now in older years,
A life fulfilled, complete, a life so free.

So back I lean, so peaceful now …. But then -
Down the lane I hear a youth draw near;
Our eyes connect, a smile, but then no more,
He seemed familiar, but why? - to me unclear.

Who was he? I wonder – as off he strolls,
But back I lean and fuss and care no more;
But sit and savour the view of distant Wolds,
And watch the kites above circle and soar.


I have slightly amended this version of the poem, having had some good advice from Pierre - thank you!