Hills Unknown

 

Under England's dusk-time shroud,

Under a dark grey pall of cloud,

I wander lonely, the hills unknown,

Thoughts attuned to a far off tone.

 

Thoughts of spring and summer days,

Shrugging off deep winter's haze,

Sounds of laughter, glad bells ringing,

Sounds of children softly singing.

 

End of day, end of week,

Autumn comes too soon to speak.

Darker days and leaves that falling,

End the laughter and the calling.

 

End of month, end of year,

Endless cycle none can steer.

Lifeless hands, our seeds are sowing,

Sightless eyes, our future knowing.

 

Under England's dusk-time shroud,

Under a dark grey pall of cloud,

I wander lonely, the hills unknown,

Thoughts attuned to a far off tone.