In the hubbub of Perth city
with its urban throb and grind,
I sometimes feel the pull
of pastures green I left behind.
It takes a two-day plane ride
from this wide brown southern land,
to reach my destination
where my spirit can expand.
My heart embraces everything
I see and smell and hear;
rejoicing in the things
that are familiar and dear.
I love the clumsy passage
of the humble bumble bee;
the gentle, rhythmic calling
of a cuckoo in a tree.
The toiling, distant tractor
that murmurs on the breeze;
the lowing of some cattle,
all with mud upon their knees.
The hedgerows fairly bursting
with flowers, birds and chicks,
and deep below, the badgers
and the foxes up to tricks.
In Somerset my childhood
was spent in blissful calm,
and find that just revisiting
can be a welcome balm.
In the hubbub of Perth city
with its urban throb and grind,
I sometimes miss the innocence
in pastures left behind...
Author notes
The picture is of Montacute House, a local stately home in my area of Somerset, England.
A contest entry
- Going Home by azure85.
600 points, ended October 12, 22 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Oh for the pull of the old country Clearly you feel it.
And who couldn't reading your words. Beautifully written and it is of no surprise that this picked up a worthy gold
Excellent
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Wonderful!
Congratulations on your poem (excellent)and its recognition by way of the Gold Trophy! You Rock!
Dennis
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A beautiful poem, as your home calls to you through the years. The tranquility of your childhood is there in the lines, with the happiness still waiting to be felt. Thank you so much, this is a grand poem.
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You've captured
what I was feeling several years ago living out in the burbs of Los Angeles... alternatively, Orange, Riverside and San Bernardino Counties at one point or another. It was the hustle and bustle of metropolitan California vs. the serene green back in the resort town in which I was raised.
Lovely rhythmic poetry at its finest.
(and, on another matter, I stick with "happiness"(!)
)
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Superb
For a moment I thought it may have been your old humble abode. This is perfect! The rhythm and rhyme flow beautifully and convey your yearning for the green grass of home, which you captured so well. By contrasting the 'urban throb and grind' against the tranquility of Somerset, you have enhanced the vivid and detailed picture you painted with your words. A masterpiece ! Good luck in the contest.
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It's hard to be so far from home. Great write and flow.
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This is a beautiful and melodic verse of rememberance, wonderfully shared, it draws the reader in with each progressive line. The descriptive imagery is rich and satisfying. Well done my friend!
Dennis *hedgerow*
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