ApplegarthA Poem by poeticpiersepic poemApplegarth There is a garden where the sun reflects from rough cast whitewashed walls. Close by the quiet river runs here you can hear the soft bird calls. The scents of lavender and sage, which grow near to the lilac trees. Compete with fields of blue borage to draw to them the questing bees. The lawn of moorland turf is neat and everywhere the flowers boom. The honey smell of meadowsweet is mingling with the perfumed broom. This garden is a sheltered spot. Where old and tired from the fray I sit and doze when it is hot and ponder in my quiet way. I think about the things I’ve seen and well loved people I have known The many places I have been in travels ‘fore I was full grown. My wandering feet have carried me to distant lands of snow and ice. Some lands without a single tree and tropic isles like paradise . I always yearned to go back home but there was always more to see When I was young I had to roam across the world by land and sea. My questing mind gave me no peace hard lessons I was forced to learn. Wisdom granted me release a truth I found I had to earn. The fire of youth burns low with age. springy step turns to measured tread I learnt my quest was a mirage and came back to where I was bred Although it’s changed it’s still the same. I see it now through different eyes and seek no more for fortunes fame. I realise to my surprise I need not have travelled at all. As all the knowledge I’ve obtained I could have gained within ths walls of this small garden .Now maintained by younger men in their full strength. Who serve me with touching awe As one who’s seen the breadth and length Of the whole world .As he sought for the secrets other lands could show. Who's been to Seen desert lands and fields of snow But has returned at last to home. A field stone house with roof of thatch, a garden sheltered from the wind. There was nowhere else could match the dream he carried in his mind. Of Applegarth, old Applegarth a house that’s filled with memories It’s been his family’s home and hearth for nigh on seven hundred years. There’s little left of the wide lands This proud family used to own but what there is Is my homeland. belongs to me and me alone. This quiet garden in the sun the Rowan tree that provides shade. I know my race is nearly run and wonder if I made the grade. Each morn I wake and greet the day. Determined that I will enjoy Whatever treats may come my way As carefree as a little boy The little boy I used to be Before my wanderlust took hold and drove me overland and sea. I only learned as I grew old That I could live contentedly at Applegarth and only here. Where I was always meant to be a message I was slow to hear. © 2013 poeticpiersReviews
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3 Reviews Added on March 4, 2013 Last Updated on March 4, 2013 AuthorpoeticpiersConsettAboutI am poeticpiers but system refused to recognise my ID SI I reregistered more..Writing
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